


Anti-Possession

by posingasme



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Aftermath of Possession, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Manipulative Relationship, Obsession, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:27:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28902633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/posingasme/pseuds/posingasme
Summary: Sam has done everything he knows how to do to keep his boyfriend happy, or at least from getting angry. But when he glimpses what real love can be, he doesn’t know if he can ever be happy himself without it.
Relationships: Castiel/Sam Winchester, Lucifer/Sam Winchester
Comments: 60
Kudos: 69





	1. I’m the Only One

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings for physical and emotional abuse and manipulation. Clearly, Luc is Lucifer. 
> 
> Inspired by a dark, twisted way of hearing some legendary Melissa Etheridge songs.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please, baby, can’t you see  
> My mind’s a burning hell.  
> I got razors ripping and tearing and scraping  
> My heart apart as well. 
> 
> ~Melissa Etheridge

It wasn’t always this way. 

Sam had never known love before Luc came into his life. He had never known anything like the man who walked in like he owned the whole town and everything in it, like everything that intense gaze fell upon simply became his in an instant. Everything his slow smirk landed on was his. Everywhere his light shone was his territory. That included Sam Winchester, who had felt that light as heat immediately. 

That was what Lucius meant, after all, Light. Luc was the angel of light, and Sam worshipped him from minute one. 

That wasn’t so long ago. Four years since he first tripped from his dark, dull life into the beaming excitement of love. Three since Luc had truly noticed the shadow following him. But since that moment, that glorious moment when Luc had suddenly, finally seen him, since that slow smirk had claimed him forever, Sam’s heart had been pinned to his sleeve for the taking. 

Dean had hated him from the start, of course. 

“He’s an asshole,” he had grumbled under his breath. “You don’t need this guy, Sammy.”

“It’s Sam. And I want him. You don’t know him, Dean! I get him! Nobody else could really get him the way I do! That’s what he likes about me! He said that!”

“I bet he said a lot of stuff. Look, just don’t geek out over him too bad, okay? I just don’t get a good vibe from him.”

Sam had rolled his eyes. “Oh. Sure. I’ll just ditch the best thing that ever happened to me because my dumb big brother has a bad feeling.”

“Hey, this dumb big brother can smell trouble a mile away.”

“Yeah, because it smells just like you.”

Dean had shrugged. “Not untrue. But still. Be careful, okay? I don’t like the way this guy just curls his finger and you go running.”

“Depends on how he curls his finger.”

A sharp wince was his reward. “Hey! Knock that off! I don’t need to hear about-about any of it!”

Laying on the gay innuendo was a tried and true way to make Dean get embarrassed and shut up. Anyway, the guy was completely overprotective. He saw demons where there weren’t any. Sam was smart, and he wasn’t about to be taken advantage of, or whatever it was Dean was scared about. He was a grown man, nineteen years old, and he didn’t have to answer to anyone. 

But that was three years back. 

“I want to know,” Luc was insisting in his quiet but firm voice. “Who were you with?”

Sam shook his head, and sat on the chair. He felt like a child at these times, with Luc standing over him. He swallowed. “It wasn’t-Nothing happened. I just went to the coffee shop, just to do some reading. I didn’t meet anyone there on purpose.”

Luc let an eyebrow peak. “But you did meet someone there.”

“I ran into an old friend from school. Andy. But-but I knew you wouldn’t want me to sit with him, so I didn’t. I just chatted with him a little while, and-“

“About what?” Luc’s hand rested on Sam’s shoulder. The weight of it burned into him. 

Sam took a breath, trying to search his memory of the conversation with Andy through the fog of anxiety. “Nothing.”

“It’s never nothing, Sam.”

“No, I just mean nothing important. He told me how grad school is going. I mentioned that my brother had gotten engaged to Lisa. He took his coffee to go.”

Luc nodded down at him, and then a soft smile replaced his frown. Light came rushing back into Sam’s periphery, and he sighed with relief. “Okay. I just wanted to know. This Andy person. A good friend back in school?”

Sam licked his lips, and shook his head quickly. “No, not like that. Just-just a guy I knew. Studied together a few times, that’s all.”

“Does he have a girlfriend?”

“I didn’t ask.”

This was less than satisfactory, he knew. Sam understood that the question had been code for whether or not Andy was gay. Luc watched him for a moment, then shrugged. “Okay,” he said again. “Next time, text me.”

“I will,” he promised breathlessly. “I’m sorry. I just forgot.”

“I worry about you when you don’t answer your phone, and then I find out you’ve been out with someone else.”

“I wasn’t, not really. I really was just there to read by myself outside. I’ll just do that here next time.”

Luc nodded, and he put his fingers into Sam’s hair. It was longer than Sam liked it, but Luc had asked him not to cut it yet, so he didn’t mind. Luc thought he looked good. That was all that mattered. “I missed you today,” he purred. “And I think you owe me a little something for making me worry. Don’t you?”

He gazed up at him with devotion. “What do you want me to do?”

“Why don’t you help me with my belt?” he suggested. 

Sam slid off the chair and knelt on the floor in front of his lover. His heart was beating wildly in his chest. He was grateful that Luc wasn’t angry with him. He was grateful for the chance to prove to him that he was Luc’s and only Luc’s, forever. His fingers pried off the belt with practiced movement, and he helped himself to Luc’s hardening bulge without pretense as soon as he could free it from confinement. 

He let Luc guide him in this, as in all things. Luc was the first man Sam had ever tasted, and Luc had taught him how to make it good. Sam was very good by now. He loved knowing that Luc had molded him into just what he wanted Sam to be for him. He could never be wrong so long as Luc was the one teaching him, crafting him. The man was only three years older, but far more experienced, and yet he always said that Sam was the best lover he ever had because he had made him perfect for himself. Sam was just what Luc wanted. If ever he wasn’t, Luc would surely fix him so that he was. 

It had crossed Sam’s mind briefly that if ever something happened to Luc, and he found himself trying to please a different lover, he wouldn’t know how to go about it. But he pushed that thought aside. He didn’t like to think about life without Luc, and love without Luc was unimaginable. 

Luc was love. Light and love and everything good in the world. 

The first time Luc had slapped him, it was during sex, and it had stunned him so badly, he had sucked in his breath and frozen in place. Luc had watched him, and Sam could feel just how excited it had made him. It hadn’t really hurt. It was just unexpected, had just scared him a little. So he drew in his breath again, slowly this time. “Did I do something wrong?” he had whispered shakily. Luc had filled him with a groan in that instant, and hadn’t bothered to answer. Something about Sam’s question had sent him over the edge. In spite of his confusion, Sam was proud of having somehow brought his lover a new level of pleasure, and anyway, it seemed embarrassing to ask afterward for an explanation when someone with more experience would probably have understood what had just happened instinctively. 

It wasn’t every time anyway. Just once in a while. And Luc liked it so much when Sam stared up at him in shock, he couldn’t really complain. Whatever Luc needed in bed, that was what Sam would be. He only wished he could ever prepare himself, that he could ever know when it was coming. He felt himself flinch sometimes when Luc moved his hand to touch his face, and even the flinch was enough to make Luc’s eyes flash with hunger. 

It was only a few months ago that Luc had first slapped him in the face outside the bedroom. But that had been Sam’s fault entirely. He had forgotten his phone at the house when he had gone to spend the day with his brother, and had missed nineteen texts and six phone calls from Luc in just four and a half hours. So he shouldn’t have been surprised to find his boyfriend seething by the time he arrived back home. Luc had said nothing at first, had grabbed Sam’s hair in one hand, and held mercilessly as his other hand struck him across the opposite cheek. 

The force of it knocked Sam from his feet, and he had fallen with a shocked cry onto the floor. The hand still gripped his hair, keeping him from turning away from Luc’s rage. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” the man shouted finally. “Do you know how worried I was about you?”

Sam was struggling to take a breath, and tears were smearing his vision. “What? Why?”

“Your phone, Sam! I had to leave work early because I was so worried about you! And what do I see? Your goddamn phone sitting there on the counter.”

His breath came shallow and quick. He stared up at Luc. “My phone? God, Luc, I’m sorry! I didn’t even realize-“

“Because you’re never thinking of me! You never think of anyone but yourself!”

Tears spilled out over his burning cheeks. It wasn’t until the salt touched his lip that he realized he was bleeding. “No! Luc, I’m sorry!”

“No, you’re not. But you will be. Because you’re going to sit here and read every one of my messages out loud, listen to every voicemail I left you. And then you’re going to do it again, and again, until I feel like you understand.” 

Luc dragged him, half crawling, half falling, to the other side of the room where his phone waited, before he finally released his hair. “Don’t get up,” he warned sharply. “Just sit there and read.”

Sobs choked him until he had almost no voice, but he did as he was told, as he deserved, and read everything four times in succession, listened to the angry messages at the end of each string of texts, swimming deeper and deeper in shame. 

Partway through the fifth round, Luc had heard enough. “You are selfish, Sam. Do you realize what it cost me to leave work early? Because I thought you were hurt or sick or something? I had to reschedule meetings, had to use my own sick leave. Is that what you wanted?”

“No!” he had wept. “No, I’m sorry.”

“You never think about me. It’s always all about Sam.”

“I’m sorry. Please. I was just with my brother-“

Luc had snorted at that. “Maybe you shouldn’t have been.”

Sam had slept on the couch for hours that night, until at last Luc had come to get him. He had blinked with disorientation in the dark, pain registering in his head though he couldn’t immediately remember why. But “I’m so sorry” fell from his lips like a reflex when he felt Luc’s hand on his arm. 

“Come to bed.” Luc turned and walked back to their room himself, and didn’t bother checking that Sam followed behind. Sam slipped between the covers in silence, and stared at the back of Luc’s head miserably until sleep came for him. 

Since then, Sam had been more careful. There had only been two other incidents since that night. He knew what Luc liked and what he didn’t, he reasoned with himself. If he could just do one but not the other, none of this would happen again. It was as simple as that. Sam was smart. He could figure this out. He would never forgive himself if he messed this up. 

So when he told Luc about Andy today, he was careful to word everything properly. He wasn’t lying about Andy. And he really hadn’t intended to meet up with anyone. It wasn’t his fault that the nice stranger with the dark hair and blue eyes had sat at his small table. There hadn’t been anywhere else to sit. They had exchanged a few words between them, about the book Sam was reading, but little else. It was hardly worth mentioning to Luc at all. 

Not even the part when the man had smiled kindly at him and murmured with a lilt of hope that he would be back again the next day around the same time, and definitely not the part where Sam had smiled back.


	2. Ruins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I will crawl through my past  
>  Over stones blood and glass  
>  In the ruins  
>  Reaching under the fence  
>  As I try to make sense  
>  In the ruins
> 
> I know your heart has held its own fear  
>  It’s perfectly clear  
>  What they did to you…
> 
> ~Melissa Etheridge

Sam had never been a clock-watcher at work, but today he found himself staring at it, willing the minutes to tick by faster. He wanted time to get his coffee before going home. 

He had awoken that morning with a strange lightness in his chest. He hadn’t even remembered why he was happy until later, when he went to make coffee for Luc in the kitchen. 

The cafe. 

Guilt tightened his chest again, but he pushed through the morning routine. Luc had dressed in his suit, and stepped in to hold him from behind as he prepared the travel mug. 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he breathed into Sam’s ear. 

A flutter of pleasure warmed him, as it always did when Luc indicated he had done something right. “I wasn’t able to get the kind of creamer you like best,” he admitted as he turned to hand off the coffee. 

Luc hesitated for just a fraction of a beat before wrapping his hand around the mug. It was just enough time for Sam’s anxiety to pinch at him. “Why not?” the older man asked quietly.

Sam lowered his eyes. “They were out. The store. They only had the other. But I’ll replace it with the right kind as soon as I can find it.”

Luc smiled and kissed him gently. “I know you will. You’re good to me. I’m sure this is fine until then.”

Relief waved away the anxiety, and Sam was grateful that Luc was always so generous. He gave him a smile too. “I hope so. Anything you need before you go?”

“Your schedule,” his lover reminded him. 

Sam cleared his throat. “Right. Nothing really. I work eight to noon. Then I’m thinking of going to the old bookstore.”

“You’ll need to eat lunch.”

“I will. I’ll grab something on my way to the store.”

“You didn’t include that. That’s why I mention it.”

He nodded. He knew better than to leave out parts of his agenda. It only made Luc worry. 

“What time should I expect you home?”

“I’ll be back here before you get out of work. I just wanted to look through any new arrivals they’ve got.”

“What time?” Luc pressed. 

“Maybe three?”

Luc raised an eyebrow. But he shrugged. “All right. Have fun. I’ll expect a text from you.”

Sam was to text Luc during every step of his day. When he left the library at the end of his shift, he would let him know he was on his way out. Once at the coffee shop, he would text again to confirm that he had picked up lunch. Then he would text upon arrival at the book store, and again once he got home. And of course he would immediately respond to any messages from Luc throughout the day. It was simple enough, and it kept Luc from worrying. 

Luc kissed him again, then turned to the door to leave. Then he stopped. “Sam? Have you heard from your brother recently?”

The question surprised him. “Dean? No. I would have told you.”

The man nodded, and left the house, satisfied that he knew everything he needed to know. 

Sam sighed to himself. He was lucky that Luc cared so much about his day, about everything. He just wondered if there were couples out there who didn’t detail everything together the way they did. 

Well, Sam wouldn’t want it any other way. He was proud of how Luc looked after him, how protective the man was. It was even a little hot when Luc seemed jealous of any other pair of eyes on him. It just wore him out sometimes, that was all. Luc was intense, and deliberate, in everything he did. Sam didn’t know much about how John and Mary had interacted when she was alive, and he rarely saw Dean with Lisa. Back in school, he had been too shy to talk to boys, and he hadn’t thought to study the way other couples acted. So there was no point of reference beyond what he could see on television, and he never watched much of that. 

He sometimes wondered if Luc kept such tabs on him because he somehow came across as insincere, inconsiderate or untrustworthy. He hoped not. He never wanted Luc to think he wasn’t committed to being what the man wanted. He certainly never wanted Luc to think it might be easier with someone else. Sam scolded himself for even wondering how it might be different. 

“You can be defiant and alone, or you can be diligent and loved,” he reminded himself nearly every day. “Luc doesn’t ask for much. Just do what you know you are supposed to do. It isn’t that big of a deal, and if you make a big deal about it, or if you start getting lazy or stubborn about what he needs, he’s got a hundred other, better options just waiting to take your place.”

It was all the reminder he needed to keep his head straight. 

So why was he now staring up at the clock, waiting with butterflies to go get coffee and a sandwich from a cafe he had frequented for years? Why hadn’t he told Luc exactly where he was heading for lunch? He knew the potential consequences of Luc finding out he had left out any details. 

What the hell was wrong with him? 

He grabbed his coat and pulled it on while making his escape the moment the clock told him he was off duty. He shoved his hands into his pockets, and let his long stride carry him straight to the cafe three blocks down the street. It felt like he was getting away with something, and a weird giddiness surged through him. It was ridiculous how excited he was about the mere possibility of running into that kind face and bright blue eyes again. And what if he did? What exactly was he hoping would come of it? This was absolutely ridiculous. He wasn’t going to do anything to betray Luc’s trust. Anyway, the man probably didn’t even remember meeting him yesterday. He didn’t even know the guy’s name. 

***

He didn’t even know the guy’s name, he thought suddenly. 

Castiel resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his own stupidity. Why did he have any hope that the handsome young man reading Gore Vidal’s The City and The Pillar would be there again today? 

He finished ordering his coffee, and trudged with it out to the dining area, eyes searching every face as he did so. 

And there he was. Castiel’s breath caught in his throat. He stopped so suddenly that the woman behind him nearly plunged into him. 

“Hey! Keep moving, buddy,” she snapped. 

He sidestepped quickly, and gathered his wits back to him. He cleared his throat, took a sip of scalding coffee, and pushed himself forward. 

The gorgeous hazel eyes were lowered, gazing intently at his book. He must have finished Vidal, Castiel realized. This one was Forster’s Maurice. 

He sighed happily. 

The young man looked up, startled. “Oh!” he cried. “Hi again!”

Castiel smiled and sat across the table from him. This time there were plenty of other seats available, but he felt it was all right to take this one, and the man didn’t seem to mind. 

“I’m Sam, by the way. I don’t remember if I introduced myself yesterday.”

He felt an excited pleasure warming him from top to toe in the wake of Sam’s sweet smile. “Castiel. I’m Castiel Seraphim.”

Sam’s eyes lit up beautifully as recognition seized him. “Castiel Seraphim,” he breathed. “You’re...you’re the one who...Your voice is incredible!”

Castiel chuckled. “Thank you. A voice and a face for radio,” he joked. 

“Yeah,” Sam sighed. Then he shook his head. “No! I mean, the voice, yeah, but-but-“

It was charming how nervous the young man was. “So you’ve heard my show a few times?”

“Yeah! I can’t usually listen in the morning, because that’s when I work, but I catch it when I can.” He laughed quietly, and pink was beginning to color his cheeks. “I remember the first time I heard you, and I thought, wow, NPR’s morning lineup just got a lot sexier.”

He had been complimented on his voice many times in his career, but delight filled him now to hear it from Sam. “My show is hardly sexy, Sam.”

“But it’s fascinating. I love the interviews you choose. The topics you choose. They’re important.”

He hummed with appreciation. “I love what I do. What do you do?”

“Oh.” The blush was deliciously bright now. “Oh, I’m just a librarian. Part-time. I mean, I’d like to be full-time, but they don’t have an opening yet, and anyway, it wouldn’t let me be home in time for...I work at the local library.”

Castiel was watching him intently. “That’s good work too,” he offered. 

Sam lowered his eyes. “I like it. But it isn’t anything like what you do.”

“I work for National Public Radio, Sam. Do you think there’s a chance I don’t fully appreciate a public library?”

Finally, the young man laughed. “I guess not. No, it’s good work, like you said. And I love it.” He seemed about to add something when his phone pinged on the table beside him. A frown flashed across his face. “I’m sorry. I need to…”

“Go ahead. I’m usually the one guilty of that myself.”

Sam grabbed his phone and read his message. He tapped out a response, then quickly put it face down on the table again. 

“Everything all right?” It had not escaped his notice the way Sam’s demeanor had tensed and darkened upon receipt of the text message. 

“No, it’s fine. I’ve got to get going soon. It’s nearly one thirty.”

Castiel nodded. “Of course.” It was frustrating the way he could interview guests on the air with complete confidence, no matter the magnanimity of the person he was facing off with, but he found himself struggling for something to chat about with this sweet, shy librarian, who sat in coffee shops reading legendary gay literature. He pounced on this as his best opening. “Before you go, how do you like Maurice?”

Sam blinked at him, then down at his book. “Oh! Oh, it’s...Forster had the publisher hide it away until after he was dead, because he didn’t want his gay works to ruin him, to define him as a writer. It’s just such a shame that he couldn’t know how much things like this mean to men like me, even a hundred years after he wrote it.”

“Maybe he did know,” Castiel suggested softly. 

The young man shrugged. “I hope he did. I’ve read it before. I cried the first time I read about Maurice going to Lasker for a cure.”

Castiel felt himself leaning across the table. He nodded encouragement to the young man. “Maurice began as a Christian. I know what that is like, to feel that horrible weight of wrongness. For most of my teenage years, my Lasker was the Church. I prayed to be cured. Not enough has changed in a hundred years.”

Sam’s eyes were wide with a mixture of fascination and fear. His voice was low. “I...I once asked my brother to help me get rid of it. I was about twelve, I guess. He was sixteen. I was so afraid of what my father might...So I asked Dean to help me somehow. He just shook his head at me, and said he couldn’t help fix what wasn’t broken. I’ll never forget that. He was the first to know, and the first to make me feel like…”

“Like you weren’t broken?”

The smile returned. “Yeah. And when I came out to my dad years later, he stood behind me like a guard dog when I did, and my dad took one look at him, and just nodded, said okay, and literally never spoke about it again.”

Castiel sighed. “Sometimes that’s the best someone can do, when they don’t really understand.”

“He loved me anyway. It isn’t the only thing the guy couldn’t talk about. And I had Dean.” He laughed quietly. “Besides, I was too shy to talk to anyone, so it never seemed to matter.”

Blue eyes rolled heavenward. “I know that feeling too,” he responded dryly. 

“You? You’re kidding. You’re...I mean, you’re Castiel Seraphim! You talk to strangers every day!”

“Hm. That’s something of a persona, Sam. Do you think Terry Gross never deviates from her interviewing identity?”

“Does she?”

He burst into laughter at last. “Honestly, I don’t know. I’ve never met her. For all I know, that’s exactly what she’s like personally! Closest I’ve come is sitting two tables away from her and Carl Kassell at an awards banquet when I was still working with Angel Radio. I remember thinking that was the table I wanted to be sitting at, and that night, I applied to WAMU in the District. Moved across the country to work with the likes of Kojo Nnamdi, Tom Sherwood and Diane Rehm, whom I idolized. Now I’m here producing my own show, and I couldn’t be happier. But that person on the show...that’s not the whole me. I absolutely get nervous and shy during interpersonal circumstances. Like...now, for example.”

Sam stared at him in awe. “You worked with Kojo Nnamdi and Tom Sherwood, you’ve interviewed political leaders and movie stars, but you’re nervous talking to me? Why?” he demanded.

This young man had no idea how attractive he was, Castiel realized with astonishment. Fondness was growing warm and heavy inside him, and he gave Sam a crooked smile. “Why? I guess because I’m interested in knowing you better. And I’m not sure how to make that happen.”

A look of shock came over Sam’s handsome face. “You want to...But why?” The pink flush was deepening into a red. “I mean...I’m just a guy. I’m nobody.”

Curiosity was eating at him, gnawing away at his anxiety. “Are you? I think you’re somebody, Sam.”

The phone pinged again. All of the sudden, Sam’s face went from rose to gray, so quickly that the large young man looked like he might be ill. He grabbed at the phone, and stumbled to his feet. Without even bothering to look at the message, he began to back away from the table. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I need to go. I shouldn’t have come. I-I’m sorry.”

Castiel lifted himself to stand with a frown. “Are you all right? Sam, did I say something-“

“I’m with someone,” he hurried breathlessly. “I have a partner. He’s...I shouldn’t have...I need to go.”

“Sam!” He put out his hand to the man’s shoulder before he could stop himself, and felt Sam flinch away. He stared at him. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I just meant to...I thought we could be friends. That’s all. There...isn’t anything wrong with that, is there?” 

He watched as Sam processed this with a look of intelligence and suspicion. This man who shared his interest in literature, who liked his show, who liked his voice, who told him his coming out story, who mourned Forster’s fear just as he did, this man who stood so tall and beautiful but hid behind his book and smelled like vanilla latte, this man who was sweet and even more awkwardly shy than Castiel, who was a gorgeous librarian, for god’s sake…

Castiel found himself holding his breath. 

“He wouldn’t like it,” Sam whispered finally. He grabbed his trash to toss as he hurried toward the door. Then he turned back around to stare at Castiel’s shocked expression. “I am sorry.”

Castiel stepped toward him slowly, as though he were approaching a wounded wild animal. “Sam, whatever I’ve done to make you upset…”

“I work at Etheridge Park during the week,” the young man pushed out hurriedly. “Eight to noon. But...but sometimes on Saturday mornings I go in just to...to read. By myself.” The hazel eyes were lowered, as though he were participating in clandestine activities. 

And he was, Castiel understood at last. He nodded up at Sam without a word, and returned to the table to watch him rush from the cafe. He could see out the window the way Sam shoved his book into his jacket and looked around him guiltily at every face on the street outside. 

Sam wasn’t allowed to have friends. That partner of his didn’t allow him to have relationships. Castiel didn’t even know his name, but he already didn’t like him. 

Castiel knew exactly where he wanted to be on Saturday morning. Because Sam needed a friend whether his partner liked it or not.


	3. Precious Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everybody’s got a hunger  
> No matter where they are  
> Everybody clings to their own fear  
> Everybody hides some scar
> 
> Precious pain  
> Empty and cold but it keeps me alive  
> I gave it my soul so that I could survive  
> Keeping me safe in these chains  
> Precious pain
> 
> ~Melissa Etheridge

Sam was shaking so badly that he had trouble using his key to open the door. Fear was lacing its way up his throat, causing him to breathe too shallowly.

Would Luc let him explain? Would he listen before getting upset? For that matter, how was Sam going to explain this anyway, when he didn’t even know what exactly had gone wrong?

Maybe Luc wasn’t home yet. Maybe he hadn’t checked their accounts. Maybe Sam still had time to figure out what the hell was going on before he had to tell Luc what had happened.

Maybe.

Or maybe Luc was sitting right there at the small desk in the living room where Sam kept his laptop, with an eyebrow raised in expectation.

His heart dropped. “Luc, wait. Let me-“

“Sam,” his lover said in a dangerous tone. “Someone just tried to access our bank account at Felt Top, using your debit card.”

“Yeah, I-“

Luc continued as though he hadn’t heard him. “Of course, I knew it couldn’t be you, because you hadn’t told me you were going there, so I froze the card. Did you lose your wallet?”

Sam’s lips parted with shock. “You...you put a hold on my card? Because I used it at Felt Top? I-I was just...I was just buying some poker chips for Dean for his birthday...That’s why my card declined on me when I went to get groceries after? Luc, I thought something was wrong with our account! I thought we were somehow overdrawn! I had to put everything back! It was so embarrassing!”

Luc’s cold glare chilled Sam completely. “Was it? Embarrassing?”

“Yeah! It was!”

“Maybe next time, you’ll let me know where you’re really going, so I don’t have to worry that the person using our money isn’t you.”

Anger and confusion made his trembling worse. “Luc, I remembered I had wanted to get him something on my way to-“

In a flash, his lover had moved from the chair across the room to speak directly into Sam’s face. It made him cringe and stopped his words instantly. “And that’s why you have a phone, Sam,” he hissed.

Sam’s legs felt weak suddenly. He put down his bag, and wished he could crawl into it himself. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Do you even need a phone, Sam? If you’re not going to use it to let me know where you are, why should I keep paying for it every month? Hm?”

He stared at the floor. “I’m sorry,” he choked out.

Luc’s gaze followed his to the bag. He snatched it from the floor and ripped the box of poker chips from it. “This is what was so important? This?”

“Luc, please.”

When the box hit the wall, it burst open, and chips rained out all over the floor with a crash. “You said you were going for groceries, Sam!” Luc shouted. “So imagine my surprise when I get the notification that your card was used at a gaming shop downtown! Imagine my concern when I realized someone was shopping with your card at a place that sells pool tables and card tables, when you said you were going out for groceries?”

Sam’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry. I just remembered it on my way, and made a quick stop. I didn’t think-“

“You obviously didn’t think! You never think! Do I have to do all your thinking for you? Give me your phone.”

“What? Why?”

Luc grabbed it from him and opened it with Sam’s passcode. “I’m checking your GPS. To see where else you’ve been that you haven’t told me about. To see what else you’re lying about!”

“Luc, no! I’m not-Look at it! I haven’t done anything I haven’t told you about! And I would have told you about this when I got home!”

“Whose money did you use to buy those stupid chips?” he snapped back. “Whose? Mine. I’m the one cashing a real paycheck, Sam. And all I ask is that you’re honest with me about how and where and when you spend it. If you had asked me for the money to buy a gift for Dean, wouldn’t I have given it to you? But you felt like you had to go behind my back instead. This is just like what Raphael used to do.”

Sam’s voice caught in his throat at the comparison.

“He went behind my back. The duplicity, Sam. I can’t stand the duplicity. I left Raphael for that, remember? Sent him crying back to his ex Michael. What about you, Sam? Who will take you in when I leave you?”

Sobs quaked from him, and before he even realized it, he had slipped down to kneel on the floor. “Please,” he murmured through his tears. “Please don’t say that. Please. I can be better than him. I love you so much, Luc, please.”

“You know, when we met, you were this ridiculously big, dumb kid. You had never had a real boyfriend before. But it’s been years now, Sam! If you haven’t learned by now how to act in a relationship, what’s to make me think you’ll ever learn?”

Big and dumb. Sam closed his eyes tightly, feeling the tears streak his face. Big and dumb. That’s what everyone thought, wasn’t it? Sam had always thought of himself as smart, but that had been arrogant and naive. Luc was the one who knew him best, who loved him anyway. Without him, Sam was nothing. No one knew that better than Sam.

“I’ve tried, Sam,” Luc was saying. “I taught you, because you didn’t know. But I’ve told you and told you, and you’re still making these dumb mistakes. I can’t trust that you’re going to be where you say you are. I can’t trust you with money. What else? What about that man at the cafe the other day?”

Sam sucked in his breath. “Man?” he forced out.

“The man. The grad student. Andy or whatever.”

He couldn’t help a quick breath of relief. “Oh. Luc, Andy was just a friend. And I barely talked to him!

“How can I trust that?” Luc shook his head. “Clean up this mess,” he barked. “I’m tired of looking at it. Tired of looking at you.”

Tears continued streaming down his cheeks. “Luc, please don’t say that,” he pleaded again. “I’ll make this better. Okay? I promise.”

Luc didn’t respond on his way up the stairs.

Sam crawled on shaky knees to pick up the chips and shattered box. His vision was blurry, and his chest hurt badly.

By the time he had finished and gotten up the nerve to ascend the stairs himself, Luc had already gotten into the bed. He deliberately looked away from Sam.

His lover could feel the anger wafting from Luc across the room. He was afraid he might be sick if this lasted too much longer. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again. “I wasn’t thinking, like you said. I don’t mean to make you feel like you can’t trust me. Luc, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.” He took a few steps to kneel beside the bed in front of his lover. “When we first met, when I first saw you, I literally couldn’t breathe. You were so handsome and smart and sure of yourself. You were everything I wasn’t. You still are. I know you have better choices out there, Luc. I can see it on the face of every man at every party you take me to. They all want you. I have you, and I promise I do not take that for granted.”

“You seem to,” Luc accused in a soft tone.

He shook his head. “No. Never. I never want to be Raphael. Okay? I can’t...I can’t even think of what it would be like to lose you forever.”

“No one would ever love you like I do. No one would want you the way I do.”

“Do you? Want me?”

Luc sighed. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I have to be able to trust you, Sam. I can’t sleep with a man I don’t trust.”

Sam swallowed down his rising panic. “You can trust me. Please. All I want in the world is to belong to you. Let me prove that. I’ve screwed up, and I know that. But I can be better.”

His lover was quiet for a moment, as Sam waited breathlessly. Then at last he nodded. “Okay. Come to bed. I take care of you all day long. Maybe you should do something to take care of me.”

Gratitude flooded his heart, and he hurried to get ready for bed. He didn’t want to give Luc the time to change his mind. He came to bed a few minutes later naked.

Luc smiled at him finally. “This is how I like you,” he said. “This is how you should always be. Wouldn’t everything be better if you never left the house, just waited here like this for me each day? Knowing you were here thinking of me, waiting for me to come make love to you? Wouldn’t that make everything perfect?”

Sam didn’t answer. Instead, he reached down under the blankets to find Luc already very hard. He listened to his lover moan as his large hand slid over him. “Let me take care of you?” he murmured into Luc’s ear.

“Yeah.”

Sam prepared them both as slowly as he could while his heart continued pounding mercilessly. Then he placed his knees each against one of Luc’s hips, and guided him into himself with a whimper he knew Luc loved. He simply sat and shivered as pleasure stung its way in past the fear, before lifting himself with strong thighs.

“Sam,” Luc groaned. “Nobody else feels like this.”

He moved in perfect time with Luc’s sighs, watching intently for all the little signals that would indicate any need his lover might have that he wasn’t serving.

“Tell me…”

He narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“That you’re mine. Tell me.”

Sam took a deep breath. He continued to slide up and down Luc’s shaft, moving his hips to achieve just the feel he knew Luc liked best. “I’m yours,” he swore. “I’m all yours. I need you, Luc. You’re my world.”

“Tell me how lost you would be without me.”

Despair draped a shadow over Sam’s pleasure, but he diligently continued his rise and fall. “I’d be nothing without you. I am nothing without you.”

“You’re nobody without me,” Luc prompted through his teeth.

Sam could feel how hard this talk was making Luc, and he had to blink back tears suddenly, as he recognized that his own desperation was what fueled Luc’s sexual pleasure. He wished that the man would simply hit him again instead. It would have the same effect on Luc, and would hurt Sam less. “I’m nobody,” he repeated in a numb monotone.

In his head, a quiet, deep voice answered him sadly. “I think you’re somebody, Sam,” the ghost insisted.

Clearly Castiel Seraphim didn’t know everything. Luc knew him. Luc knew. And Luc was all that mattered.


	4. The Angels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All I want is for your love to be all mine  
> But the angels won’t have it  
> All I want is a little peace of mind  
> But the angels won’t have it  
> I thought I had a piece of my soul left to sell  
> I guess that it’s just as well  
> ‘Cause the angels won’t have it.
> 
> ~Melissa Etheridge

Castiel burst into laughter, and Sam felt himself flushing with pleasure. He smiled too. “That was my only run-in with fame, and it was pretty dumb. Imagine thinking I look like the guy from Gilmore Girls. But I went ahead and signed their books, _Not Jared_. They were super excited.”

“Well, if the only English they spoke was ‘Gilmore Girls,’ what choice did you have?” Castiel chuckled. “They would have gone home thinking that Jared guy was a jerk for not signing.”

Sam shrugged. “That’s what I was thinking. I felt like I was representing this celebrity I don’t know at all, and that I had to assume he was a nice guy who would autograph books for these sweet Korean women. But you! You’ve met everyone!”

“I once interviewed this guy named Misha Collins. He acts, lots of sci-fi and fantasy stuff, a few horror films, and he’s this master of cringe improv comedy, which I actually hate myself, but what I was interested in was his charity work.”

“Misha Collins! Yeah! He shows up in every law and cop show eventually. He’s really hot.”

Castiel blinked at him. “Well...my story was about to be that everyone at the station teased me for days that I was like his twin, but now saying that seems a bit self-serving.”

Sam snickered, and let his hair fall in front of his blush. “You do look a lot like him.”

“And he’s hot, hm?”

The young man smirked down at the book on his lap. “I think I said really hot.”

“I think you did.”

He chewed on his lip to get his smile under control. It had been a very long time since he had simply sat and chatted with someone, but it was starting to come back to him, the gentle banter and harmless flirting.

Was it harmless?

He flinched, and looked away from his new friend quickly. That voice in his head sounded so much like Luc.

“Are you all right?” Castiel asked in his soft tone.

He forced the smile back onto his face. “Of course. So you said you don’t like cringe comedy. What is that?”

Castiel relaxed back in his chair with a groan. “It’s the kind of humor that gives you terrible second-hand embarrassment. It was a hallmark of The Office and Borat, and it can be really clever, but it stresses me out.”

Sam laughed again. “You get stressed by comedy?”

“Only when it makes me cringe. Hence the name of the art form. I think you have to be something of a sociopath in order to really enjoy it. I’m a little too empathetic. It makes me really uncomfortable when the characters are so awkward that it is painful.” He shrugged. “Maybe I’m just too intimately familiar with feeling awkward myself to enjoy it on the screen.”

“I still don’t get that. You always sound so smooth on the radio.”

“No one is looking at me. That helps.”

“Again. You and Misha are both really hot.”

“Again,” he argued dryly, “Misha and I are both very awkward. In completely different ways. He revels in his weirdness. But thank you for not understanding how I could feel that way. That’s generous of you.”

Sam sat back too. The voice in his head interrupted him often, but he was determined to push it to the darkness of his mind. He wasn’t doing anything wrong by making a new friend.

Then why didn’t he tell Luc? Why did he insist on meeting the man in secret?

He lowered his eyes. It felt like Castiel could see right into his guilty soul.

“So tell me about the library, Sam.”

His gaze shot up again. Speaking of his soul. “What do you mean?”

“This isn’t just a part time job for you. I can tell.”

A slow smile eased its way back onto his face. “I’m not sure what you mean. But no. It’s not just a job. I spent every lonely moment of my childhood in a library. It was where I hid most of my life.” He had never even said these things to Luc, he realized. Now he was confiding in a complete stranger. “We moved around a lot as a kid. After my mom died. I was a baby when that happened, and I pretty much grew up on the road. Dad went from one town to the next, working whatever job he could get, until Mom’s ghost caught up with him and he started seeing her everywhere again. And we would pack up and head out again. It was all I could do to keep my grades afloat. Once I hit middle school, my brother Dean dropped out and I enrolled in a virtual program so I could keep up no matter where we were.”

The blue eyes were watching him with that constant intensity. “You went to school in libraries.”

He nodded. “Taught myself, mostly, took tests online, even got work tutoring kids online now and then, but I never really got to talk to anyone. Graduated with above a 4.0, but never ate lunch with another kid since fifth grade. Except my big brother, who was too busy keeping himself and Dad out of trouble. They dropped me off at a library and I might not see them for days at a time. Got lost in every city I was ever in, walking myself back to whatever motel or rental we were staying at. I could memorize every chemical formula you ever needed to know, but getting from one nondescript building to another in Anywhere, USA was beyond me. Every time I finally learned my way, we were ready to move again.”

Castiel was smiling at him with a strange fondness. “But inside the library…”

 _He understands_ , Sam’s heart whispered softly. _He gets it. The loneliness, he understands what it feels like._ “Inside, every library is a little different and a lot the same. I could walk in and know my way around in an instant. It was my home, whatever library I was in at the moment. So when I couldn’t afford to go to college full time, I started at the community college in this town, and worked at their library. Got my degree in library science. To have my own library, I’d need my masters too, but...that progress has slowed to a crawl. I only take one grad course a term now.”

“The money?”

Sam frowned. “Not exactly. I can only work on it so many hours a day. And...and my partner...Anyway, he doesn’t really want me to work full time. So there isn’t much point. I take the classes, and I’ll get my degree eventually. For now, it isn’t necessary.”

There was too much intelligence in this man before him. “Not necessary,” Castiel repeated. “But you want it.”

“I do. But it isn’t important right now.”

“It’s important to you, but not a priority for him.”

The frown deepened, and he shook his head. “That’s not what I said.”

“No,” he agreed quietly. “That’s not what you said.”

Defensiveness rose up in him now, and he took a deep breath. “Look, he’s the one cashing a real paycheck. I have an easy job, with easy hours, in a comfortable place. That’s more than most people can say. I’m the one who never finished my courses. That’s on me.”

“Were you dating him in undergrad?”

Why did it suddenly feel like their conversation was being turned on its head? “Yeah. I mean...part of it. I graduated high school early, because I worked through my summers, and I did extra courses online my first year, so I met him halfway through an accelerated program. I had most of my credits by the time we started seeing one another.”

Castiel shifted to lean in, the way he did when Sam said something that seemed to intrigue him. “You graduated high school early and got your bachelors in two years? Then, after all that, you slowed down before getting your masters, even though you already knew what it was you wanted to do?”

“It took two and a half years for the bachelors,” he corrected. Because Luc had complained that Sam’s schedule between work and school left no time for him. So Sam had lightened his course load. But he wasn’t going to admit that to Castiel. “And I was kind of burned out by then, I guess. I’ve only got a few hours to go before my masters is complete. I do most of it online, and study during work hours when I can.”

“Because your partner wants your attention when you’re home in the evening.”

He cleared his throat. Talk of Luc was bringing on a nervous feeling in his chest. “You know, it’s been fun getting to know you. And I went back and listened to a bunch of shows from your archives on podcast this week, and it’s all fascinating. I wish...Anyway, I think I’d better not...do this again. You know?”

Castiel nodded slowly. “This. Meeting with me.”

Dread was competing with guilt in his stomach. He didn’t want to have to say this. He truly enjoyed Castiel’s company. He was a kindred spirit in a lot of ways, and he was an intelligent, kind man, and so intuitive. In another world, Sam could imagine them being close friends.

But he didn’t want to live in any world where Luc was angry with him. And continuing to meet up with Castiel would do that eventually, without doubt. The more time he spent with a friend, the more questions Luc would want answered. He didn’t want to have to answer them, so he needed to stop before Luc even knew to ask.

“Yeah,” he forced out. “It isn’t a good idea.”

“Because your partner wouldn’t like it.”

Sam licked his lips, and nodded. “It’s not fair to him to not tell him, and if I tell him...Yeah. He wouldn’t like it.”

“What’s his name?”

It felt like a betrayal to talk about him. Anxiety bubbled beneath his skin, and he felt himself shiver slightly. “Luc. He’s-His name, it’s Lucius Cirillo. It’s Mediterranean; he goes by Luc. We’ve been together three years. And...and he wouldn’t like this at all.”

Castiel lowered his eyes, but raised a dark brow. “Sam, you’re not doing anything wrong. Just talking to someone.”

“No, I know. But he-“ Sam laughed nervously. “He gets jealous. It’s dumb, right? As if anyone was going to try to take his place. But that’s what makes it sweet, right? That he honestly thinks someone is going to try to steal away...this!” He gestured to himself vaguely.

The blue gaze lifted again. “That’s what makes it sweet.”

“Right. I mean, he’s never had a bit of competition. Not for me. He’s the one everyone is always fawning over. But he always thinks somebody is going to flirt with me if he doesn’t watch me all the time. Stupid. But I-I’m glad he thinks I’m worth getting protective about.” What was he even saying? Why was he talking about Luc at all? The point was to tell Castiel that he enjoyed his company but that they shouldn’t do this again. Why was his mouth running away from him? Was he making Luc sound bad? What was wrong with him?

“You know, Sam,” Castiel said quietly, “there’s a difference between protective and possessive.”

He could feel his face draining of color, and he was a little sick to his stomach. “No. No, he’s not...That’s not what it’s about. I don’t mean to make him sound-He just likes to watch over me, that’s all. He’s older by a few years; I guess that’s why. I don’t know. Anyway, I think I’d better go.”

Castiel was watching him with an unreadable expression on his face. “Sam, if you don’t want to be friends, we won’t be. I’ll leave you alone. But you seem to want a friend. You seem to want me to be that friend. Maybe if I met Luc, we could-“

“No!” He sat straight in his chair, and gripped his book with white knuckles. “No. That’s not a good idea. None of this is a good idea. I should go. You should go.”

“Sam, tell me more about Luc. Does he get angry with you when you talk to-“

“This isn’t a good idea,” he repeated. Sweat was beading at his temples, and he raised a weak hand to claw his hair from his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Castiel perched on the edge of his chair, and reached to touch Sam’s hand, the one that held his book so tightly that it hurt. The warmth from Castiel’s touch eased his grip immediately.

He stared down at their hands. Fear was filling him everywhere.

“Sam, if you’re uncomfortable, I’ll go. Okay? I just want you to think about how unhealthy it is to be with someone who makes you afraid to have friends. Okay? Will you just consider that?”

“Luc’s right,” he croaked. “I can’t trust anyone but him. You interview people for a living, make them say more than they should. You're-you're trying to confuse me. Manipulate me.”

Castiel sighed. “Please just think about it. You’re so smart, Sam. You can trust your own judgement. You don’t have to let him make these decisions for you. And it isn’t healthy if you’re afraid.”

“You need to go.” Tears were welling in his eyes, and he was shaking. He couldn’t meet Castiel’s gaze. But this was his library, and Castiel should be the one to leave. Sam didn’t have much in the world that was his, but this library, every library...It was his sanctuary. He was safe there. Castiel needed to be the one to leave it.

“Okay.” The man took back his hand, and stood, reaching into his pocket to produce a card. “I’m going to go. But this is my information. If you ever want to call or text or something, or if you want me to meet up with you sometime...Just please keep it. One day you might decide you’d like to try again.”

Sam took the card numbly, and put it into his book without looking up. It was humiliating somehow, having this man who barely knew him tell him that he was wrong about his relationship. He wondered if it should make him angry, but all he could feel was shame.

“You’re so smart, Sam.”

He blinked away tears and stared at the floor. Finally, the other set of shoes padded away, and Sam was alone in this section of the library.

Alone, like always, but safe in his sanctuary.


	5. Come to my window...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I would dial numbers  
> Just to listen to your breath  
> And I would stand inside my hell  
> And hold the hand of Death.  
> You don’t know how far I’d go  
> To ease this precious ache  
> You don’t know how much I’d give  
> Or how much I can take  
> Just to reach you.  
> Nothing fills the blackness  
> That has seeped inside my chest  
> I need you in my blood  
> I am forsaking all the rest  
> Just to reach you…
> 
> ~Melissa Etheridge

Castiel drummed his fingers on the desk. He wasn’t paying any attention to the music at all. Yesterday, he had zoned out while doing research on the musician, someone he had been trying to book on his show for weeks. If he didn’t pull himself together soon, how was he going to interview the woman at all? Sam Winchester was going to ruin his career, one assignment at a time.

His hands slid over to the keyboard, and he tapped on it. “Concerned,” he muttered to himself. “Not stalking. Concerned.”

Lucius Cirillo. If his own name weren’t Castiel Seraphim, he might have sneered at what a pretentious moniker it was.

An online search turned up nothing but high school lacrosse photos. Apparently Luc had been a brutal player back in his day. There was just one image that showed the kid’s face, and he enlarged it to stare. It was a handsome face, Castiel had to admit. A mischievous grin was the dominant feature, but Castiel also took note of the narrowed blue eyes. That was a kid who revelled in his own power and charisma. He suspected that, at least, had not changed much over the years.

Something tickled at the back of his mind, and he reached for the station phone to call a friend.

“Hello,” the voice purred. “And what can I do for the Castiel Seraphim Show today?”

He smiled. “Hello, Balt.”

The attractive British accent continued. “Oh, it’s Castiel Seraphim himself, is it?”

He couldn’t help laughing. “Because I have a staff of hundreds?”

“You’re a big man now. I’m surprised to find you making your own calls.”

“There are two guys and an intern, and I haven’t seen any of them for hours. It’s just me.”

“A shame. No rest for the wicked, darling?”

Castiel hummed. “I have a favor to ask.”

“Of course. It would never occur to me that you might call just to say hello.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re making me rethink calling you at all.”

“Go on. What can I do for the great and mighty Cas Seraphim?”

“Stop using my full name. We’ve known one another since kids called me Fat Cassie.”

It was Balthazar’s turn to laugh. “You were a right cute pudge, weren’t you? All right. What can I do for an old friend, then?”

Castiel continued to stare at the image he had found of Sam’s partner. “Bit of research. Let me give you a name.” He waited for Balthazar to indicate he was ready, then spelled it for him.

His friend gave a low whistle. “Some name.”

“Your name is Balthazar Corazon. There are two z’s in your name. Mine is at least as bad. And anyway, I suspect there’s going to be something worse about this guy than his name.”

“Fair enough. Though his does translate to Lord of Light.”

“Mine is Angel Angels. You’re Balt Heart. Move on.”

Balthazar acknowledged this with a sigh. “Well, he’s got no record, officially,” he reported.

This was why he called Balthazar. Balt had been his best friend back at the English school in Panama, when Castiel’s father and Balt’s mother had worked together at the American and British embassies. They had lost touch for a few years when Castiel’s father was recalled to Washington, but then years later, Castiel had received a call from his old friend out of the blue to say that he would be attending university in America. They had made plans together, and college had been one adventure after another. Castiel had gotten his degree in journalism, and Balt had pursued political science. They had gone their separate ways for another few years, before meeting up again when Castiel got his job in the nation’s capital, where Balt was working as a liaison and sometimes referee for the FBI and CIA in America, and MI5 and MI6 in Great Britain. Balt had access to people who had no record. “Officially. But he’s got a file.”

“That doesn’t indicate guilt, Cassie. Simply that trouble was found nearby. It looks like charges were dropped.”

“What sort of charges?”

“Well, you’re not sleeping with him, I hope.”

Castiel felt his heart begin to pound. “No. But I know someone who is. Why?”

“Battery. Picked up on several domestics, but victims never pressed charges. Last one was a man called Raphael, who told an officer he was leaving Cirillo anyway, so he didn’t want to go through any legal troubles. He just wanted to be done and move on.”

He swallowed hard. “How long ago was that?”

“Three years. His first was three years before that, when he was seventeen. Beat up a teammate on a high school sports team, and a comment from the officer at the time said it looked like a lover’s squabble gone bad, so they just looked the other way. Damn unprofessional,” he mused. “But not uncommon. Bad enough when it is a woman involved. Too many officers don’t take that seriously either. When it’s two men, it’s left as a boys-will-be-boys situation too often.”

Castiel’s stomach was churning.

“And often a gay man won’t even realize he needs to report it. Imagine? I don’t know if it’s because he’s embarrassed or because-“

“Because he’s just grateful to have someone who says he loves him. Because it’s painful enough to be alone.”

“Well...yes. Abuse happens in same sex relationships at about the same rate as heterosexual couples, which is to say far too frequently. And law enforcement has never been great at dealing with it, no matter the circumstance. I’m looking at this file, and this man of yours has gotten away with cruelty again and again because the victims were never counseled to press charges against him. Allegedly.”

“Allegedly. How many instances have there been?”

“None in the past three years. Seven before that, including the one when he was a minor.”

Castiel sighed. “None in three years. You think somebody like that can turn over a new leaf?”

“Not if he never had to face consequences for it in his past. I’m more inclined to think he just hasn’t been caught at it lately. Some guys try to get better. Some guys just get better at being bad.”

“Your professional opinion?”

“He’s dangerous, Cassie. Don’t get yourself tangled with him. There’s never been a weapon in any of these cases. But I’m looking at images of what the brute can do with his bare hands. Just be careful. Is this for a show?”

“Yeah,” he murmured. Then he shook his head. “No. Personal curiosity. Something didn’t smell right about this guy. Thank you, Balt.” He took a deep breath. “Hey, how’s Gabe?”

“Exhausting.”

He smiled shakily. “Bet you like that.”

“Love it. Take care of yourself, Cassie. Call me again sometime, whether you need a favor or not.”

“I will. Thanks again.”

“Castiel?”

He had been about to turn off his phone when he heard his friend’s voice again. “Yeah?”

“Lucius Cirillo. You know who else is called Lord of the Light?”

“Who?”

“Lucifer. Be careful, Angel.”

Castiel sat back in his chair as his phone went dark.  
Balt had been Castiel’s first everything, first friend, first lover, first heartbreak. He was grateful that their time in Washington, D.C. had allowed them to reconnect as just friends again, as adults who shared history. He could even admit to himself now how terrible a couple they had actually made, and he was happy for Balt that he had found Gabriel. The two of them were far better aligned, and Castiel had retained his oldest friendship, from a safe distance.

Luc was Sam’s first everything too, wasn’t he?

Castiel frowned at the picture on his screen. Battery charges against Luc had been dropped, Balt had said, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. Balt had fairly high level security clearance, and he encountered truly bad people in his work. If he thought Luc was trouble, Castiel knew he was.

Was there any way to make Sam see it too? He sighed. “I can’t even get him to see that I’m a good guy,” he mumbled to himself. “How am I supposed to make him believe his boyfriend is a bad guy? And he doesn’t want me around anyway. I can’t keep pushing him, when he’s made it clear he doesn’t want me to be in his life.”

But Sam had been the one to reach out, hadn’t he? Castiel had made a comment that first day, that he might return to the cafe the following lunchtime. Sam had returned as well. And when he had started to leave that time, Sam had made sure to tell him where he could be found next, at the library on Saturday morning. The man wanted a friend. The man deserved a friend.

“So? How do I see him again without scaring him away?”

A slow, sad smile came over him then.

“I want to see him because he’s gorgeous. But what I really need is to reach him. Even if I never get to show him I could be a better choice, the point is to show him that he has a choice.”

Well, what was the benefit of having worked so hard for so long to finally have his own show on the radio, if he couldn’t use it to reach people?

***

Jogging was the best chance Sam had most days to listen to music or podcasts that Luc wouldn’t enjoy. When he got up in the morning, it was the first thing he did, while Luc was still asleep. After his jog, he got breakfast and coffee ready for Luc, and then headed to work himself. Between work and Luc arriving back home was time for errands or assignments and research for his graduate course. When Luc returned from work, he would be expected to be attentive. So Sam made the best use of his time during his jog.

The past two weeks, Sam had skipped his music entirely, and devoured the complete backlog of Castiel Seraphim’s shows. He even looked up as many of his old segments on other shows as he could find.

The idea of being caught up with Castiel’s archives was weirdly painful. Sam had done as Luc would have wanted, and sent Castiel away without contacting him again. But he had enjoyed the intellectual conversation, the literary discussions, the wry humor, and, of course, the man’s unique voice. There was something comforting about being able to hear Castiel interviewing people, as though Sam were in the room observing without being seen. It was upsetting to think that soon he would be out of old shows to listen to, and he would have to wait for new content. He had caught up to the show Castiel had put out just three days ago.

Sam’s stride faltered, and he slowed to a stop.

A frown came over him.

Castiel’s deep voice was introducing a woman, giving her background as an abuse counselor, who worked specifically with victims of domestic abuse within same-sex couples.

“Hannah, you and I have spoken before. Thank you for agreeing to come on the show and discuss this very important topic.”

“Of course. Thank you for allowing me the opportunity.”

“You said something in one of your most recent blogs which caught my attention. You said that abuse victims in same-sex relationships are sometimes faced with unique circumstances. Can you tell us a bit about that?”

“Yes. Let me clarify that any of these situations could potentially apply to anyone. But they are more prevalent among those who identify LGBTQ. For the purposes of our discussion today, we will be talking specifically about same-sex relationships, women with women and men with men, including those who are transgender. There are other challenges specific to other members of the community which we can discuss next time.”

“That’s right. We will make this an ongoing conversation here at the show, and we are happy to hear from our listeners about their own experiences as well, as well as questions for Dr. Hannah Tern.”

Sam began walking again, but his heart pounding was not caused by exertion. He felt leaden, and could not return to his usual pace. He walked, without truly seeing where he was going.

Hannah was clearing her throat. “So often, men and women who are attracted to the same sex have faced painful trials in their past. Some were not accepted by family, some were made to feel as though they were broken or couldn’t be loved because of who they are. Some might even have been without a home at some point. So if someone offers them companionship and shelter, they might not look too hard at what it costs.”

Luc had found Sam working himself to death so as not to have to rely on Dean after high school. John wasn’t stable enough to help, and Dean had enough going on just taking care of John. Sam had not wanted to be a burden to…

“...to the only one who ever knew me and loved me anyway,” he murmured aloud to the dawn.

“Abusers often seek out vulnerabilities, and the loneliness that many gay men and women feel can make them susceptible to a controlling personality. Especially if they haven’t felt supported much in the past…”

Luc was beautiful and powerful, and the way he grinned made Sam’s shoulders turn in on their own, as if he would curl up and hide. He had watched Luc from a periphery for almost a year when he had come to town, watched him flirting with everyone who came near enough, watched him turn every head, watched him laugh out loud when Sam could barely speak above a whisper. The confidence reminded him of John on his good days, the charisma of Dean, and the wicked wink Luc threw his way was all his own. By the time he had reeled Sam in, he had been hooked for months. Every time Luc had smirked in his direction, Sam’s breath had caught in his throat, and all he could hear was his own heartbeat.

“Sometimes, a victim will be made to feel grateful for the affection they receive, as if their abuser is the only possible source of love for them…”

Sam had just learned to make friends when Luc had finally shown an interest. He had a few close ones he could call to hang out with, to play video games or study with, to eat a meal with. It was the first time Luc had come upon Sam flirting with a man that the older student had pounced. It had taken all of Sam’s nerve to hit on that guy, Max, at his sister Alicia’s party. Before he could get more than a few words out, just as Max had reached out to put his hand on Sam’s arm suggestively, Luc had been there. Sam hadn’t even known he was at the party. The first time Sam had shown any initiative with another man, Luc had rushed in. After all that time stringing Sam along, he had finally gotten Luc’s attention.

“...isolating them from their friends and family, even coworkers, and perceived rivals…”

The first thing Luc had said in that moment wasn’t to Sam at all. “Heya, Max,” he had sneered. “Great party. But this one is mine.”

“...feel like a possession and not a partner, but don’t recognize it until they are in too deep…”

Sam had felt his knees buckle beneath him, and Luc had steadied him with both hands. “Easy there, Sam. Had too much to drink. Come here. I’ll take care of you.”

“...what they see as protective behavior is actually a means of controlling them…”

Luc had not let him out of his sight the rest of the night, and it was not Max’s apartment that Sam visited. Luc had been overwhelming in his passion, had taken Sam apart before he even realized what was happening. He had never been with a man before, had hoped Max might-But now it was Luc, the man who stole his breath every time he saw him, and Sam was swept under by the current.

“...imbalance of power in its nature means the two are not partners. One is controlling the other. One is controlled by the other…”

Luc had laid claim to him that night. He left no doubt that Sam belonged with him, that Sam belonged to him. And Sam had wanted it so badly. The loneliness had made him hollow, but love for Luc filled him everywhere, and if Luc took control, Sam gave it willingly.

“...that no one would want them, that they would never be loved again if it weren’t for their abuser. That’s a powerful threat for someone who has known loneliness before…”

Sam stopped walking now, and gripped his head with both hands. A sharp headache was piercing him mercilessly.

“...that control in every part of the relationship. Abusers will check emails and text messages and other communications with anyone else, if they cannot stop it altogether.”

Dean. How long had it been since he had seen his brother? Had it been since Luc had gotten so angry when he had forgotten his phone?

“...just easier than incurring the wrath or the guilt-trip of their partner, so they give in.”

Had he even spoken to Dean since then? Why hadn’t Dean called him? It had been months now!

“...gaslighting, which is a way of manipulating someone into thinking their grasp of reality cannot be trusted. It’s one of the most detrimental things an abuser can do, because it ensures that the victim learns not to trust their own reasoning, their own judgment. It can be disorienting, confusing. It can be terrifying. And it can cause lasting damage for someone who is trapped in an abusive relationship for too long…”

Sam could feel the color draining from his face. He stumbled a little, and reached for his phone. A quick glance at his recent incoming calls showed that the cache had been deleted recently. Even Luc’s number only appeared twice.

“...difficult, if not dangerous, to escape the situation when all ties to any other people in their lives have been severed…”

He stared at his phone. “But...Luc must have called my phone at least four times just yesterday. There should be a record of them. I don’t delete my call history.”

“...suffering in silence…”

Dean had called. Or at least, he could have. Sam wouldn’t have known, not if Luc was regularly checking and deleting calls and messages.

“...more lonely than actually being alone…”

With shaking hands, Sam placed a call to his brother’s phone, cutting off the podcast mid-sentence. In the silence, the ringing began. He found himself holding his breath.

“Sammy?”

“Dean?” he hissed.

“Sammy, what the hell, man? I’ve been trying to call you! I’ve left you about a hundred messages. If I weren’t two days away, I might’ve come to kick your ass. Might’ve done it anyway if another week went by! Why aren’t you returning my damn calls?”

Tears slipped down his cheeks. “Dean? I need to talk to you.”


	6. If I Wanted To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If I wanted to I could do anything right  
>  I could dance with the devil  
>  On a Saturday night.
> 
> If I wanted to I could turn mountains to sand  
>  Hold political leaders in the palm of my hand
> 
> I wouldn’t have to be in love with you  
>  If I only wanted to.
> 
> ~Melissa Etheridge

Days went by after he had spoken to Dean, and he still wasn’t sure what to do. Dean’s opinion had been clear. He thought Sam should punch Luc on his way out, or at least let his big brother do it for him. Sam had rejected that idea. 

“I don’t want to leave him, Dean. I want to make things better between us. I love him, man. I really...I just love him. He’s everything to me, has been for years now.”

“That’s kind of the problem, isn’t it?” Dean scoffed, but he hadn’t pushed the issue. “Look, I find out he’s screwing with my messages to you again, I’m not waiting for your permission. I’m coming to town and kicking his ass, no matter who doesn’t like it. I’m your family, Sammy. He’s got no right.”

“No. He doesn’t have the right to do that. I’m going to talk to him. About that, about everything. He loves me, Dean. If he knows I’m unhappy with the way things are, I know he will make some changes. Okay?”

Dean snorted. “Yeah. Okay. Sammy? You’d tell me if the bastard ever hit you or something, right?”

It had been the detail he hadn’t been able to bring himself to report. He desperately wanted his relationship with Luc to be salvaged, and if he told Dean that part, if he told anyone that part, it would make it seem as though Luc were truly an abusive boyfriend. Sam knew it wasn’t as simple as that. He wasn’t prepared to explain why, though, so he omitted the facts which couldn’t be easily explained away. Luc was just a little bit of a control freak, and he had crossed a line by deleting Dean’s messages. Everything could still be fixed. 

“Sammy?”

“What? Yeah, no, of course I’d tell you. It isn’t like that. Look, I’m going to go, but I’ll call you in a few days. Thanks for letting me lay all this on you.”

“Should’ve told me long before now,” Dean grumbled. “I don’t like it, Sam. You need to get out of this thing with him, and you should do it now.”

“I can take care of myself, Dean. I called you when something bad happened, didn’t I?”

Dean hummed in irritation. “Call me soon. I don’t hear from you in a few days, I’m packing a bag.”

Sam shuddered. “Please don’t show up here. It would make everything worse. Just trust me to handle this.”

“Sam-“

“Trust me.”

A heavy sigh came over the line. “I know you can take care of yourself, kiddo. You did it your whole life. But I worry you won’t, you know?”

“I will. I’ll call you in a few days.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Sam knew how upset he had made his brother. It made his chest clench tightly to think of Dean worrying about him. He never wanted to be the one others had to worry about. He wouldn’t be again. Just this once, he had needed to talk things through, but from here on out, he would handle things on his own. 

In the days that followed, Sam had searched for the right moment, the opening to talk to Luc on equal footing. It quickly became obvious that, if there ever had been equal footing between them, it didn’t exist anymore. 

How had he let this happen?

Luc had come home angry at his manager at work, who he often complained was out to get him. That was not the sort of mood Sam wanted to step into. Instead, he fixed Luc a few drinks and let him vent about work, and helped him to bed when he drank too much. 

The next day, Luc had come home early to surprise him, and was so affectionate and passionate that Sam couldn’t possibly bring up his concerns. He was beginning to wonder if he had imagined some of it anyway. 

Then Saturday was there. 

“You’re not going out today.”

Sam frowned, and turned to stare at his lover. He had gotten dressed and was gathering a few books together, but now he stopped. “What do you mean?”

Luc stretched in the bed lazily. “I want you here.”

He lowered his eyes, and swallowed. “But...I want to go to the library.”

“You can do that another time. You’re there all week. You’re staying in today.”

Sam fought against his well-ingrained habit, and shook his head. “No. I want to go. I’ll come back by-“

A sharp frown came over Luc’s handsome face, and he sat up in bed. “I just said I want you here.”

He wanted to give in, he realized with horrified shock. He wanted to immediately surrender. It was the way things were. It was the way things stayed calm and nice, by letting Luc make his decisions. The longer Sam held out, the more fear snaked its way through his veins. “I want to go.” It was a small voice, a weak voice, and Sam was ashamed of it. But it was all he could summon to him in that moment. 

Luc’s icy eyes narrowed dangerously. “Sam,” he said quietly, “why are you doing this?”

His breath was shallow. He was becoming lightheaded. “I just want to go out,” he repeated breathlessly. “I won’t be long.” 

“You won’t be out at all. What’s so important about going to the library? Is someone there?”

His large body trembled under the merciless glare. “No. Of course not. I just want-“

“There is someone there! You’re lying to me!”

Just give in. His heart screamed at him to just give Luc what he wanted, to make everything calm again. But he shook his head. “Luc, I want to go to the library and read my books, find some new ones. I’m not meeting anyone there. Who could I possibly be meeting? I don’t have any friends.” His voice was a hissing whisper now. His face was flushing hot in humiliation. 

“Why would you need any?” Luc lifted himself from the bed and stood before his lover. Luc was already near his height, and when Sam curled in on himself, Luc appeared taller. He found himself looking up into cold eyes. “The point of having friends is to meet the person you want to be with. If you already have me, there’s no need for anyone else.”

Sam couldn’t help lowering his eyes. “I’m just saying that you don’t have to worry about that. I’m just-“

“You’re trying to pick a fight, that’s what you’re doing.”

He cringed. “Luc-“

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately. It’s like you never want to be home with me!”

“That’s not true-“

Luc stepped closer, and Sam took a shaky step backward. “I work all day, every day, so that you can sit around and do nothing all week long. You hide in your books at night. Do I ask too much?”

“No, of course not. I don’t mean to-“

The older man wasn’t listening anymore. “I bust my ass all week, and you are completely useless, and then when I want some time with you on the weekends, all I hear is whining.”

Sam frowned down at the floor. He took a jagged breath.

“God, you are so selfish. And ungrateful. You know how many guys would kill to be where you are? How many have tried to convince me to leave you behind?”

Tears burned his eyes, and he shook his head. “Don’t. Luc, please don’t talk like that.”

“You think I need to put up with this?” Luc shoved Sam into the wall on his way to the dresser behind him. He grabbed a shirt, and slammed the drawer back in place. 

Sam leaned on the wall for support to keep from falling. 

“This is what I get for living with a kid,” he spat without even looking at his target. “Plenty of guys I could be with right now, but I had to choose the virgin brat who needs me to teach him everything.”

He flinched in humiliation. 

“Big, dumb brat. I swear to god, Sam, if you hadn’t learned to give good head, I’d have left a long time ago!” He threw the shirt on, and pulled on a pair of jeans as well. “You’re almost not worth it.”

Hot tears flowed down his cheeks, but he shook his head and forced his voice to obey him. “I want to go out. So I’m going out. And...and when I get back…” He gulped in his breath desperately. “When I get back, I want to talk about you deleting my messages from my phone. From my brother. Who knows who else. You can’t do that.”

Luc turned very slowly to stare at him. Anger lit his icy eyes in a terrifying way. “Don’t you try to tell me what I can and can’t do,” he growled. 

Holding Luc’s vicious gaze with his own hurt one was making Sam feel like throwing up. “I’m going out now.”

“You walk out of here now, and I won’t be here when you get back.”

A rush of breath gasped in through his teeth. “Luc!” he cried. 

“I don’t know why you’re picking a fight, Sam. But you better think hard about the game you’re playing. Is this it?”

“Is...is what…”

Luc stepped in again, and his snarl was just inches from Sam’s face. “The hill, Sam. Is this the hill you’re going to die on? This is so important to you that you’re going to risk coming home to an empty apartment?”

Sobs stuck in his throat. “Where would you go?”

“I don’t know. Like I said, I have plenty of other options. Maybe I’ll give one a try for the night. I’ll come home in the morning, and won’t tell you where I’ve been or who I’ve been with. You’ll know what it feels like.”

Sam ducked past Luc, grabbing his books on his way to the door. Tears blocked his vision, but he continued stubbornly. “Do that,” he snapped. “Do whatever you need to do. I’m going out. I’m going to the library to read for a few hours. Then I’m coming home. If you’re here, I’d like to talk about boundaries, and how you treat me. If you’re not here, I’ll just enjoy the quiet to myself.”

He ran all the way to the library, several blocks from home. Once there, he dropped down to sit against the building, letting his books fall to his lap, and held his head in his hands to sob madly.

The man was beginning to think he was never going to get his emotions under control, when a hand grasped his arm gently. 

He lifted his swollen eyes with a gasp. “Castiel!”

These blue eyes were kind, warm, concerned. They were nothing like the ones he had left behind at home. “Sam? How can I help?”

He burst into a new round of tears, and leaned forward to rest his head on Castiel’s chest, as the older man sat on his heels beside him on the sidewalk. 

The hand in his hair was comforting. It didn’t pull, it didn’t yank his face to the side. It stroked through his hair in a way Sam wondered if he had ever felt before. “All right,” the deep voice soothed. “It’s all right. I’ve got you.” Then Castiel was sitting too, leaning against the library wall. His arm held Sam to him, and his surprisingly powerful chest absorbed Sam’s shaking sobs. “It’s going to be all right.”

“No,” he argued. “No, I’ve messed up everything. Like I always knew I would. He’s so angry with me! I should have just done what he said. Why did I need to be so defiant? Defiant and alone or diligent and loved. I know the consequences! Why can’t I just keep my mouth shut?”

“You shouldn’t have to,” Castiel murmured into his hair. “That’s what I was trying to say when I saw you last, Sam. You don’t have to let him make your decisions for you. You can trust yourself to make choices. And you don’t have to choose him.”

Slowly, he lifted his head to look at his new friend. “Why are you doing this? Helping me? Why are you even here right now?”

Castiel shrugged. “I guess I was hoping to see you. I wouldn’t have bothered you if you didn’t want me around. But I enjoyed your company.”

“Why? God, why? I’m such a complete mess! You’re Castiel Seraphim! You could be spending your Saturday morning anywhere, with anyone! Just like Luc could! Why the hell would you come here again, especially after the way I talked to you last time?”

Long fingers brushed his hair back from his face with a tenderness Sam found entirely unfamiliar and strange. “I enjoy your company. And I wanted to be here for you, in case you needed a friend but couldn’t call.”

Sam sniffed. 

“You’re not a mess, Sam. You’re hurt. Someone is hurting you. That’s not your fault.”

“I make him so angry.”

“No, Sam. He’s angry. You don’t make him that way. Nobody makes us do anything. Let me take you to breakfast, okay? Please. Think of it as doing me a favor. I’ve begun a new series on my show, and I’d like your input. Please?”

“I should go…” He should run back home, drop to his knees and apologize to Luc, promise never to walk away again, promise to be better beginning today, plead with him not to be angry with him anymore, beg for his love. 

But Castiel’s face was so open, his eyes so hopeful when he looked back at Sam’s. 

He smiled shakily. “Yeah,” he sighed. “Breakfast. That’s something friends can do.”

Relief and delight lit up Castiel’s face. “Yes. It is.” He stood and reached down to help Sam up onto weak knees. “Where would you like to go?”

Sam nearly responded automatically, to say that it made no difference to him, and he would be happy with whatever Castiel chose for them. Then he took a breath, and spoke slowly. “I’d like...When I was a kid...Some of my best memories are of being in an all-night diner with my brother and my dad, eating breakfast while we were on the road.” Luc hated restaurants like that. Sam couldn’t remember the last time he had entered one. 

Castiel was smiling happily. “I know just the place. It’s where I spent most of the night before my first solo show, studying my notes and doing last-minute research. Drank coffee and ate pie all night.”

Sam sighed again, thinking of nights spent studying in diners all over the country, with his brother along for company, all the coffee he had consumed while sitting across from Dean happily scarfing down pie. “That’s exactly the sort of place I mean.”


	7. It’s For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey you watching as this light bleeds all over me  
> Shadows rise and fall listen as I call is this reality  
> I will be with you tonight  
> And tomorrow be one thousand miles away  
> I will be with you tonight  
> I will be with you as long as you stay
> 
> One little piece of my soul  
> One little piece of my whole life  
> I give to you now  
> Take it now
> 
> Hey you looking through a mirror to a cage  
> I’ll take you away this miracle you pray for on the stage  
> I will be with you tonight  
> I will be with you one thousand miles away  
> I will never leave  
> Inside of you a piece of me will stay...
> 
> ~Melissa Etheridge

Dean would have loved the pie. 

The thought kept occurring to him in the middle of conversation with Castiel. Dean would love the pie Castiel was eating. Sam himself indulged in eggs and toast, cut fruit and pancakes, like he had years ago at every diner they had ever been in. Castiel had ordered coffee and pie, just as he had said. 

Slowly, between bites, the stories poured out. Talking to Dean had focused him, and he had noticed countless things over the past few days that he had never paid any attention to before, like the way Luc spoke to him, then turned and walked away, forcing Sam to hurry after him like a puppy, or the way Luc had insisted that Sam thank him for coming home early to surprise him. 

Castiel listened intently. When he spoke, it was with a cautious, quiet tone, and it felt respectful somehow. 

Luc never sounded like he had any respect for Sam whatsoever, he realized with humiliation. He heard himself telling Castiel this too. 

If Castiel was too empathetic for cringe comedy shows, he was also impressively empathetic interpersonally. Sam had never felt anything like it before. He knew in his heart that this man had heard every word, had felt every emotion Sam felt. 

At some point, Castiel’s fingers had touched Sam’s on the table, and Sam had let them connect without pulling away. Luc would have grabbed hold of his hand if he had wanted it. Instead, Castiel simply placed his hand next to Sam’s in a way that allowed a bare brush of skin, sending electric sparks all the way to Sam’s elbow. He ached down to his toes for this kind of subtle affection. 

“I...I’m only just realizing…”

The fingers moved just enough to provide a bit of comfort, to remind Sam that Castiel was listening, and that he wanted him to continue. 

Sam stared down at their hands. “Luc’s way of loving me...That was never the way I wanted to be loved.”

It felt like something in him was shattering in slow motion. He had dedicated himself so completely to what Luc wanted that it had never occurred to him to wonder if that was what he wanted too. Voices were clawing for his attention inside his mind. Graduate school. His library. His career. A quiet, calm home, with warmth. A quiet, calm love that felt safe. 

All of the sudden, Sam began to laugh, even as tears blurred his vision. 

“Sam?” 

“I wanted a damn dog!” he cried out in exasperation. “He hates dogs! How could I have fallen so hard for a man who hates dogs? That should have been my first and only clue! How have I forgotten all the things I wanted for myself?”

The sad blue eyes watched him. “I’m so sorry, Sam. You have such a beautiful personality. It never should have been buried under someone else’s. You’re so smart, Sam.”

He closed his eyes and ripped his hand away to wipe at his tears angrily. “You keep saying that. How would you know? The only things you know about me have to do with how stupid I am. When I was a kid, I was little and a smartass. Then I grew up to be big and dumb. I’m not smart, Cas. I just read a lot. And I worked hard at school. That’s all.”

“That’s not all,” Castiel argued. “Sam, you’re more than he’s made you believe you are!”

“I know what I am. I’m nothing without him.”

“No. You’re someone, Sam. The more I get to know you, the more you’re someone I really like. I don’t understand how anyone could get to know you and not...appreciate you.”

There was just enough hesitation to make Sam think Castiel had been about to say something else. He lifted his head finally, and locked eyes with his new friend. He searched Castiel’s face desperately. He didn’t even know what he was looking for, but he thought maybe Castiel would know somehow, and maybe, just maybe, it was something Sam could have. 

A slow blink of those bright blue eyes seemed to stop time for an instant. Then Castiel was holding his hand, and Sam was no longer breathing. “I don’t see how anyone could get to know you and not want to be good to you,” he whispered. “I’ve only spent a few hours with you, Sam, and it’s all I can think about. Like nobody I’ve ever known before, you deserve to be loved right. I know I shouldn’t say this, but, Sam, if Luc can’t do it right, I want to be the one who does.”

Sam’s heart lurched, as if it were trying to throw him toward this man. 

“Someone will love you, Sam, and someone will love you the way you deserve. Anyone would be lucky to have the chance. You have other choices, Sam, better ones. I just want you to know...I’m happy to just be your friend. But if you’re ever looking for a better choice, someone who knows you deserve more...I am a choice.” He smiled shakily. “For what it’s worth, I love dogs.”

This time when the tears slipped down his cheeks, they didn’t burn his cheeks with humiliation. This time, they were silent, and they brought relief. Sam smiled too. “And...what would that look like?” he asked. “Being loved right. You say Luc isn’t doing it right. How might someone else...do it better?”

Castiel’s face lit with hope, and Sam thought maybe he had never seen anything so sweet. An adorably crooked grin was forming now. “First of all? Being friends should be part of any love. You need someone who respects you, who listens when you have something to say. Now, I’m not saying it should be me. But part of why I’m good at my job is that I truly enjoy listening.”

Sam chuckled softly. “Yeah?”

“I do. And you need someone who is secure enough himself to not feel threatened by other people getting to know how great you are. Someone who would be proud to sit back and listen to you talking to friends, without worrying that anyone is trying to take his place.”

“You’re trying to take his place,” Sam pointed out. 

Castiel shrugged. “That’s...true. But you need someone who trusts you to make your own choices, who doesn’t try to get in the way of you having relationships, because he trusts you.”

He couldn’t help watching Castiel make his argument and thinking how accidentally charming the man could be. “Okay. You’re right. That sounds nice.”

“You need someone who isn’t threatened by your career.”

He lifted an eyebrow in question. 

“Someone who leaves it up to you as to whether you work full time or part time. Someone who supports your decisions.”

That sounded nice too, he acknowledged wryly. At what point had Sam given up on all the things that he had wanted? At what point had he handed the reins-the leash?-to Luc entirely?

“Someone who...someone who…”

Sam watched as the man who literally talked for a living lost his ability to speak, because he was too focused on staring at Sam. “And what might this man do to show me he’s attracted to me?”

Castiel blinked several times. A delicious splash of pink was tinting his cheekbones. “I...I guess he...Wouldn’t he tell you that...that he wants to kiss you? Maybe he might say that...that he loves listening to you, but sometimes he finds himself just watching your lips move, and imagining what they might feel like. That just being with you overwhelms his senses. Maybe he might say something like that. Maybe, if you were single and free, maybe he could touch your hand without feeling guilty. Maybe, if you liked that, maybe he could try holding you, and…”

“What if I wasn’t sure what I wanted? What if I didn’t know what to do?”

“He would hold you and love you, and help you figure out exactly what made you feel good. What made you feel safe and loved. He would probably do anything at all to make you happy, and probably would do whatever it took to bring you pleasure.” He blinked again, as if coming out of a trance. “That-I mean, that’s what someone should do for you. Someone.”

“You’re someone, Cas.”

“I want to be.” He shook his head to clear it. “But that’s not the point. The point is that Luc doesn’t own you, Sam, and you don’t have to stay where you don’t feel safe and respected!”

Sam sighed. He glanced out the window for a long time, and Castiel stirred his coffee in silence as he waited. Finally, he turned back to smile wearily. “I have to try to work things out with Luc,” he said at last. “I owe him that. Don’t I?”

A dark brow lifted sardonically. “I don’t think you owe him anything.”

“I do love him. I have loved him. I think I still do. I’ve spent so much time trying to do what made him happy that I forgot that I’m supposed to feel that way too. I need to give him a chance. If he can’t turn things around...If he can’t…”

“If he can’t? What will you do, Sam?”

“I’ll...I’ll leave him. God, I never thought in all this time that I would be the one to say that. He’s threatened to leave me so many times. I’ve held on so tightly for so long that I think I’ve lost track of why it’s so important to hold on in the first place. I’ve been so afraid of losing him that it never occurred to me to wonder if I still want him. But I owe him one last chance.”

Castiel looked down at the table, then up again. “All right, Sam. Please be careful. He’s dangerous. I worry about him hurting you.”

Sam sat back. “I’ll be all right. But if things go bad, I won’t have anywhere to go. My brother is several states away, and you know I don’t have anyone else. Can I call you?”

“I hope you will. I really hope you will. Even if all I can be is a friend, Sam, let me be that. If you need somewhere safe to be, let me provide that for you.”

This was what it meant to have a true friend. Luc had never been that. Sam nodded with determination. He had a plan. If Luc didn’t turn this around, this weekend, Sam had somewhere to go, and a friend to lean on. It was more than he had been able to count on since the last time his brother lived in the same town. He could lose now, because he wouldn’t lose everything. He had the means to leave Luc now, and that gave him power he had never had in this relationship. 

This weekend. This was it. The clock was ticking.


	8. I will never be the same..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets of your life  
>  I never wanted for myself  
>  But you guarded them like a lie  
>  Placed up on the highest shelf  
>  In the morning of the night  
>  When I woke to find you gone  
>  I knew your distant Devil  
>  Must be dragging you along…
> 
> ~Melissa Etheridge

Castiel closed the door behind him, and leaned against it for a moment. He let his eyes fall closed, but Sam’s gorgeous face was burned into his memory. He took a long breath, and pushed himself off the door to move to the bedroom. It was only noon, and he had a lot of research to do before the end of the day. But right now, he was going to lie down and dream of things that would probably never come to be. 

He slipped naked between his sheets. What would it be like to have Sam’s large body beside his? What would it be like to roll over to find him sleeping there peacefully, to know he was the one who helped him feel safe? He would be able to put his hands through that beautiful hair, wrap himself in those long limbs, hold Sam’s heart secure in their cocoon. 

His hands wandered as he imagined touching Sam. There were so many things he wanted to do for the young man, to help him feel good, after that monster had made him afraid. Castiel wanted to worship him the way he deserved, to leave no doubt in Sam’s mind that Luc hadn’t done it right. 

Castiel’s whole body reacted to the idea of bringing Sam pleasure. Maybe he would never have the chance. He really would just be Sam’s friend if that’s what he wanted from him. But, god, if only he would let Castiel love him!

He imagined Sam smiling up at him with trust in his eyes, and it sent a hot wave of pleasure through him. His hands worked on himself the way he wanted to use them on Sam, and it wasn’t long before he felt the stinging, breathless edge. 

Sam. 

He wanted to be above Sam, to be able to view his long, gorgeous throat, to see that hair fall on the pillow, to watch those lips part as they came close. He wanted to breathe promises of endless love and devotion. He wanted them to reach the peak together, to ride it together, and then to fall together, into laughing kisses. He wanted to take Sam in his arms and continue those promises, and keep his hands running through his hair until he could watch the man sleep without worry. Then the promises would go silent, but they would never stop, not in Castiel’s heart. 

As Castiel let himself go, he groaned aloud, something he had rarely done while alone before. He grasped desperately at Sam’s fading visage in his mind. 

For the first time in a very long time, it hit Castiel just how lonely he was himself. The pace at which he worked and lived left him very little time for self-evaluation. But now, lying alone in his bed on a Saturday afternoon, dreaming of someone he couldn’t have, a hollow feeling crept in to make him feel cold and empty. He wanted to feel loved, just as Sam deserved to. 

Castiel closed his eyes tightly. 

That wasn’t the point, he scolded himself. The point was to get Sam safe, no matter what. If he pursued Sam in earnest, it might make the young man feel that his help hinged on Sam reciprocating, and that wasn’t the point at all. He had indulged in his fairy tale, and now it was out of his system. Fantasizing about being with Sam was counterproductive, and it would only make it hurt more when Sam never chose him. He couldn’t afford to fall for someone like Sam, and he couldn’t give Sam the impression that his friendship was tied to the hope of anything more. That wasn’t fair. Sam needed a friend, and that was all Castiel would be. It didn’t matter how lonely Castiel was.


	9. Let Me Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Am I the snake inside your garden  
>  The sugar in your tea  
>  The knock upon your back door  
>  That twist that turns your key  
>  Am I the sweat you feel on your head  
>  The shadow on your face  
>  The tune inside your head that got you  
>  Here in the first place 
> 
> Do you try to stay suspended  
>  In your deepest fantasy  
>  After night has ended  
>  The scent of mystery  
>  The power of suggestion  
>  Tangles up your soul  
>  A neutral state between love and hate  
>  Is bound to take its toll…
> 
> Am I the keeper of your beast  
>  Well I don’t want to be...
> 
> ~Melissa Etheridge

The sound of a key fumbling in the lock of the front door startled Sam awake. He glanced at the clock in foggy disorientation. Past three in the morning. He frowned and sat up. “Luc?”

The key finally succeeded. The door opened, then slammed shut again. He could hear his boyfriend storming around in the kitchen. 

He chewed on his lip. He had prepared what he wanted to say to Luc, had gone over it and over it in his head after his breakfast with Castiel. He had fallen asleep around midnight while waiting for Luc to return home, and now he couldn’t catch the words swimming around in his brain all out of order. Fear was bubbling up inside him. 

“Sam! You better be here!”

His breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t even answer. He could feel himself begin trembling. 

Luc was so angry. 

The bedroom door flew open at last, and Luc’s wolflike gaze landed right on him. 

“Did you enjoy your quiet evening?” he snarled. 

Sam swallowed. Luc had been drinking, but he wasn’t really drunk. He was simply livid. “I just waited for you, then went to sleep.”

“Alone,” Luc spat. “That’s how it’s going to be when I kick you out. Every night, alone. Is that what you want?”

He took a deep breath. “Luc, I didn’t do anything wrong today. I wanted to go out to the library. You’re the one who made such a big deal out of-“

“I don’t like this new tone you’re using.”

Sam frowned. John had said something similar to Dean, in that same warning voice, when he had begun taking more and more control over their daily lives as he got older. The more unstable John was, the more Dean quietly took over decisions and responsibilities, which inevitably led to him sounding more confident when talking to their father. More like equals. “You mean you don’t like me sounding like your equal in this relationship,” he murmured. 

Luc’s eyes flashed in anger. “I don’t like you picking fights,” he corrected. “Don’t you think you owe me an explanation?”

He could hear Castiel’s voice now too. “I don’t think I owe you anything,” he whispered. The trembling was getting worse, but he stayed stubborn. 

Luc was on him in an instant, pinning him to the bed with the sheets and his own weight. “You ungrateful brat!” he shrieked, and he clapped his hand across Sam’s face viciously. 

Sam heard the crack before he felt the pain, and it sent a stab of cold fear through him. He tried to push himself up, and found that he couldn’t get past Luc. “Let me up!” he cried. 

This time, it was the back of Luc’s large hand on the other side of his face. He felt his lip burst, and his vision blurred momentarily. “Everything I do for you!” Luc was screaming. The words spilled out, as fists and open hands rained down on Sam from above. “Ungrateful! I own you! You know that! I’ll tell you when you can come and go, and you’ll do what I tell you to do!”

At last, Sam was able to throw his own hand up, and block one of Luc’s strikes. He tried grabbing hold of the man’s wrist, but Luc put his other hand on his upper chest, and leaned all his weight there, knocking the breath from him entirely, and Sam lost his grip. “Get off me!” he wheezed. The bedsheets were tangling around his throat, his legs still pinned beneath them. Luc’s weight on his chest kept him from being able to take in a full breath. 

“You’re making me have to teach you all over again!” Luc lamented. “Do you think I can’t make you sorry you didn’t listen?”

“Luc!” he choked out. 

“Think I can’t make you beg me? Tell me how sorry you are! Tell me you need me.” 

This slap made Sam lightheaded. He could taste blood. He gathered his strength to him, strength he had never used with Luc before, and shoved against the weight atop him, to roll out of the bed from under Luc’s attacks. He crawled away from the bed to try to stand, but Luc grabbed him again, and slammed his head into the bedside table. Sam’s eyes rolled back and he fell to the floor in a heap.

“You are nothing without me! Did you forget that? You stupid bitch, you lose me and you lose everything! Don’t you know that? You pathetic, useless-“

“Luc, stop!” he groaned. 

“I love you! Never would have put up with this if I didn’t!” Luc stood back, his chest heaving, and through a swollen eye, Sam could see that tears were running down Luc’s cheeks.

Somehow, the sight of it broke Sam’s heart even further. “I’m sorry,” he breathed without meaning to. His head hurt, his chest and throat and everything else hurt, and he couldn’t remember why he had made Luc so angry to begin with. What was worth all of this? A few hours at a library? Luc was right. That wasn’t the hill Sam wanted to die on! 

“Nobody without me!”

The small, insistent voice in his head spoke up, and he found himself saying the words. “I’m somebody,” he argued hoarsely. “You can’t do this to me, Luc! This isn’t love, okay?”

“How would you know? Nobody ever gave a damn about you your whole life! Nobody but me ever will! I’m the only one! You’re willing to risk the only love you’ll ever get in your life? For what?” Luc punctuated the last word with a vicious kick to Sam’s stomach. 

Sam curled in on himself with a cry of pain. He could hear his brother’s voice now too, barking at him to get up and fight, the way he had taught him to do. It was too late for that, Sam realized sadly. He had let it go on for too long, and he wasn’t going to be able to use anything Dean had taught him now. Blood was trickling down his arm, and he wasn’t even sure where it was coming from. His grip on consciousness was failing since his brutal crack on the table. He still couldn’t catch a full breath, couldn’t make his long limbs obey him, couldn’t use an ounce of the strength he knew was there. 

Luc was going to win this. He shut his eyes, and when he tried to open them again, it was too blurry to see anything, so he let them stay closed as they wanted to. 

“Luc,” he croaked. 

The hands were rough, but he was being lifted to the bed again. “I love you, Sam. And so when I tell you that you’re not going anywhere, I mean it. You’re not going anywhere. I want you here, even when I’m not. You’ll quit at the library. I’ll do the shopping. You don’t need a phone, because you’ll be safe here when I’m at work. I don’t know what got into you, but you need a refresher course on how this works. Until I feel like I can trust you again, you’re to stay right here. Whatever you need, you’ll get it from me or not at all. Sleep now. Things have gotten too lax around here, but I’m going to fix that. I’m not going to be so indulgent anymore. Not till you’ve relearned. Not till I’ve fixed you.”

Sam tried desperately to cling to his consciousness, but it was slipping fast. The part of his brain which was still operating was pleading with him to get up, to grab his phone and get out of the apartment, to call Castiel, then Dean, to just get away. But the rest of him smelled like blood, and curling up and surrendering was so much easier. 

“We’ll fix this, Sam. I promise…”

***

The door was locked from the other side.

It had taken a huge amount of effort to even get out of the bed and get to the door after sleeping for who knew how long. Now that he was there, he was horrified to find that he couldn’t get out. 

“What did he…” Sam stared through two swollen eyes at the door. It took longer than it should have for him to realize that Luc had removed and reversed the knob, so that the bedroom locked from outside instead of inside. He blinked at it in astonishment. “Why would he even think to do that?” he wondered. He banged on the door with his fist. “Luc? Open the door!”

His demand was met by silence. 

He wasn’t sure if it was a rising panic or a concussion or the blows he had taken to the stomach, but Sam felt like he could be sick at any moment. He stumbled back to the dresser, and struggled into some clothes. Then he reached for his phone. 

The phone was gone. 

Sam’s lips parted in shock. Words from last night slammed back into him. “He did it. He took my phone. Locked me in, took my phone.”

He returned to the door to examine it. There was no point in trying to kick it open, he knew. It was too heavy, and he would probably break a bone before he broke the door. He had nothing with which to remove the door at the hinge. He stared glumly at the knob itself. 

A trip to the bathroom revealed the extent of his injuries. There were bruises all over his face and hands, his wrists and throat. His lip had stopped bleeding while he was unconscious, but the blood was dried on his skin. The blood on his arm had come from the cut on the side of his head, just above the temple, it seemed. He hissed at the sting when he tried touching his head gingerly. That must have been the table. He vaguely recalled having noticed that the furniture had not fared much better than he had. 

He sighed heavily. He hadn’t heard any movement beyond the bedroom, so he suspected that Luc had left the apartment with confidence that Sam couldn’t. But Sam did not intend to be there upon Luc’s return. He knew something Luc didn’t, because Luc was never the listener Castiel was. 

Picking this lock would be nothing for a boy who had grown up sneaking into libraries after hours just because he could, just because he was alone in a strange town, and wanted to feel like he was at home. 

There had never been a lock Sam couldn’t pick open. This one wasn’t keeping him from going anywhere, and anywhere was exactly where he planned on going as soon as possible. 

He packed his duffle and his backpack with everything he wanted to take with him. His laptop, his photos of Mary, John and Dean, the card Castiel had given him, the tiny stuffed moose Mary had gotten him as a baby which had followed him everywhere in his life, his favorite books, clothes and toiletries all dropped into one bag or the other, until they were full. Then he turned his attention to the lock. It was difficult to keep his eyes open, but he managed. He rummaged through Luc’s things in the closet until he came across the letter jacket from high school lacrosse. 

Sam helped himself to Luc’s varsity pins, and bent them to serve his purpose. Using two inside the lock was as good as having a key. He smirked when the lock gave. He tossed the bent pins onto the bed over his shoulder, grabbed his bags, and hurried from the room. A quick glance told him he was alone, and he took one last good look around. 

There was nothing else he needed from this life. He snatched up his textbook for his graduate course on his way out the door, and did not look back when he closed it behind him. 

He made his way to his library, pulling his sweatshirt hood up to hide his face. He knew what he looked like. It didn’t matter. He would be in his sanctuary soon. 

When he got there, he let himself in, and didn’t even bother turning on any lights. He went straight to the librarian’s office and closed the door quickly. Finally, he flicked the light switch on the wall, put down his bags, and dug out Castiel’s card. 

The phone rang several times before a deep, sleepy voice answered. “Hello? Who-“

“Cas?”

“Yes? It’s six in the morning, on a-a Sunday, I think. What? Who is this?”

“Cas, it’s Sam. I left Luc, and I’m at my library.”

The man seemed wide awake in an instant. “You left Luc? Actually left him?”

“Yeah. I can’t be there anymore.”

“Are you all right? What happened?”

Sam could see his reflection in the glass window in the office door. He sighed. “I’m really not okay. Can you come? I don’t know where else to go, and you said…”

“Of course. I’ll be there right away. I’ll pick you up in the parking lot in ten minutes, and I’ll take you anywhere you want to go, or I’ll bring you home to my place.”

He smiled shakily. “Yeah. Okay. Thank you. I’ll just wait here then.”


	10. Talking to My Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can feel the thunder   
>  Underneath my feet  
>  I sold my soul for freedom  
>  It’s lonely but it’s sweet
> 
> Don’t be afraid  
>  Close your eyes  
>  Lay it all down  
>  Don’t you cry  
>  Can’t you see I’m going  
>  Where I can see the sun rise  
>  I’ve been talking to my angel  
>  And he said that it’s all right...
> 
> ~Melissa Etheridge

Castiel’s heart shattered into lethal shards in the instant he laid eyes on Sam in the library. He had said very little beyond asking Sam if he wouldn’t rather go to a hospital, and when the young man said no to this offer, he helped him to the car and drove him to his own house across town. He wanted to demand answers to his questions, but he would wait until Sam was cleaned up and safe to push for the story. 

For his part, Sam simply lay his head against the window and rested until they arrived. 

It was two hours of sleep in the guest room and a long shower later before he heard much out of Sam. At last, he placed a bowl of soup and some grilled cheese in front of his friend at the dining table, and sat across from him expectantly. 

“A far cry from yesterday’s pancakes and eggs,” he acknowledged, “but I get the impression you need something with some healing properties.”

Sam tried to smile through that poor broken lip. “It’s perfect,” he whispered hoarsely. “Thank you.”

“Sam, you can stay as long as you want, and I will help you in any way I can. But...can you tell me what happened?”

Hazel gray eyes lowered to stare at the table. “I made him angry,” he reported simply, and his voice failed in the last word. 

Castiel flinched at this explanation. “Sam…”

“I loved him, and I lost him. And I will never be the same.”

He sighed, and closed his eyes in deep frustration. He wanted to somehow show Sam just how stupid Luc was for hurting him, that Luc was the one who had lost in this situation, lost the most beautiful, the most gorgeously, quietly intelligent, the sweetest man...Luc had hurt beyond repair the man Castiel wasn’t even allowed to love. The world wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. If Sam had met Castiel first, would he have had a chance? Would Sam have let him close enough to adore him like he deserved? Why was Luc the one who had received such a good heart to break? Castiel could have loved it so gently, so completely, but the world gave that heart to a monster instead. The worst part was that somehow, somehow, Sam blamed himself. 

“Hey.” 

He reopened his eyes to find Sam reaching across the table to take Castiel’s hand. He hated how much he wanted that contact, how much he craved it. This wasn’t about his needs, he scolded himself. This was about Sam. It didn’t matter one bit how well their hands fit together, or how good it felt to be touched that way. What mattered was that Sam’s hand came with a badly bruised wrist, and that it was clearly difficult for Sam to reach out at all, considering what reaching for Luc had done to him. Castiel swallowed, and let shame quell his pleasure at Sam’s soft touch. 

“Hey,” the young man breathed again. “I want to thank you.”

The guilt flowed through him suddenly, and he felt himself flush warm. “No,” he insisted. “Please don’t. I just want to be sure you’re safe. I still feel like we should have taken you to a hospital, or at least a clinic or someplace-“

“Cas?”

The voice stopped him with a sharp intake of breath followed by a quick sigh. Why was he so damn emotional? That was the last thing Sam needed! He needed calm! He needed steady! He didn’t need Castiel falling apart on the inside showing on the outside! He didn’t need Castiel falling at all.

“Let me thank you. Okay? If it weren’t for you...I heard your show.”

This time, the breath stopped completely. 

“That’s what started me thinking about the way...the way Luc and I are. Were. You had that woman, Dr. Tern?”

“Hannah.”

“Right. She described my life. She just started describing everything that went on inside my relationship, inside my head. It was like she had cameras in my home. Some of the details were different, but you two showed me everything he was doing, and suddenly I could see it all in a new light. With new eyes. It made me call Dean. And-and I couldn’t tell him everything, but I told him enough, and he told me I needed to get out. I needed to hear it from someone who I know cares about me. My brother...He’s everything I’ve ever had.”

Castiel watched the young man brush his thumb over the backs of his fingers. He couldn’t believe Sam hadn’t backed away yet. He was afraid to move, as though he might startle the man and break the contact. 

Sam sniffed. “Luc said something to me today. He said it before, I guess, but I heard it differently this time.”

“What did he say?”

The swollen, split lips smiled again. “He tried to tell me that no one had ever cared about me my whole life, that he was the first and the only one. I guess I just never questioned him, but-but he’s wrong. I’ve always had my brother. No matter what town we were in, no matter how bad things got, I always had my brother. He looks after Dad now, but I know he would be here if I told him I needed him. He would drop everything.” He looked up, and his next words surprised Castiel. “But now there’s someone else I can count on, and that means the world to me. So thank you, Cas. Aside from my brother, you’re the best friend I ever had. You’re the only one who ever noticed I wasn’t happy. And you’re the only one who ever tried to do anything about it.”

Castiel couldn’t help staring into Sam’s eyes with terrifying hope. “I’m just...glad you’re removed from that situation, Sam. I don’t need you to thank me. I don’t need…”

Sam sat back at last, and took a sip of the soup. He winced as the salt touched his lips, then relaxed. He sighed. “We can talk more later, can’t we? I’m so tired. You wanted to know what happened. I heard you and my brother telling me things weren’t right, and I stopped accepting that Luc knew best. When he couldn’t make me just roll over suddenly, he resorted to beating the shit out of me. I could have made him stop, but-but I didn’t, not in time, and then I couldn’t...Then, when I passed out, he managed to lock me in the bedroom without my phone, said I was to stay in the apartment all the time till I could be trusted again.”

A flash of fury lit through him at this revelation. “He hit you until you passed out? He locked you in? Jesus! How did you get out?”

The young man snorted softly. “I know a thing or two about getting into places I shouldn’t be. Apparently it’s a skill that reverses pretty easily. I picked the lock and walked out before he could catch me.”

A shocked bark of a laugh from Castiel cooled his anger somewhat. “You have stories, Sam, and I want to hear them all, beginning with how you learned to pick locks. But you’re tired. I’ll let you rest for now. I just have one last question for you.”

“What is that?”

“Would you prefer to call the police, or would you like me to do it for you?”

Sam let his spoon clatter against the bowl as he dropped it. “The...police?”

He stood his ground before the most emotionally wrenching puppy eyes he had ever seen. “Yes, Sam. Luc can’t do this and not face consequences.”

“I’m just glad it’s over, Cas. I just want it to be over.”

Castiel nodded slowly. “Do you think maybe that’s what his last boyfriend said? Or the one before that?”

Sam looked like he had been slapped again, this time by Castiel himself. He stared. “His last…”

He took a deep breath. “I don’t want to push you, Sam. But what if this is a pattern of behavior? If he never faces consequences-“

Sam stood slowly. “Do you know something? About Raphael or one of the others? Cas, do you somehow know something about Luc that I don’t know?”

“Sam, I called a friend, who works in law enforcement. He couldn’t give me specifics, but he confirmed for me that Lucius Cirillo has a file, that he has been nearly charged with battery and assault several times in the past.”

“Nearly…”

“He’s gotten away with this controlling behavior for a long time, Sam. He’s dangerous. And it has to stop now. If it doesn’t…” Castiel stood and looked up into Sam’s face with sad determination. He was probably ending their friendship right now, by pushing too hard, by admitting that he had looked into Sam’s personal life, by overstepping his place. But for Castiel, it all came down to one thing. “Sam, if he isn’t stopped, you’ll never really be safe. And I can’t just not try to protect you. I can’t see him hurt you again. I...I just can’t.”

Their eyes locked for several seconds, just long enough for Castiel to feel what was left of his heart splintering in his chest. Then Sam moved, and before Castiel could understand what was happening, the large young man had thrown his arms around him. 

Castiel froze in place. 

Sam huffed a laugh through sobs. “This is the part where you hug back.”

His brain jump started at the nudge. “Oh!” He hurried to reciprocate the embrace, and then Sam pulled back, not to separate them, but to put his hands on either side of Castiel’s stunned face, and gently place their foreheads together. 

“When my lips heal, I want to kiss you,” Sam warned. 

Castiel whimpered aloud. 

Sam smirked at the sound. “You know what? Screw that. I’m kissing you now. It’ll be worth it.”

Their first kiss tasted like pain of the past, and hope for the future. It melted Castiel immediately. 

For the first time, Sam was the one supporting him when he wavered. “I got you,” he murmured. “You’ve got me. I got you. I think that’s the way it’s actually supposed to work.”

When Castiel could speak again, he agreed that it was.


	11. Place Your Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’ve an image in my pocket  
>  Of some dark demon  
>  That temptation brought to life  
>  And it chokes all of my breath out  
>  I’m scratching and screaming  
>  Till morning comes to night
> 
> There are fragments of possessions  
>  Shards of past relations  
>  Splintering my skin  
>  A fear so black and hollow  
>  It can suffocate creation  
>  And refuse to let you in.
> 
> ~Melissa Etheridge

Luc had always liked to think that if he had been born in a different world, he might have made an excellent detective, maybe in some exciting city like Los Angeles. He loved CSI shows, cop procedurals and so forth. He knew Sam didn’t like them, but that didn’t matter. There wasn’t much Luc enjoyed more than curling up and watching a detective show with Sam. Sam said they were formulaic, but Luc didn’t care. That was just Sam trying to sound smarter than him. He hated that, and he had put a stop to it early in their relationship. Luc loved those shows, and he could have been the hero in every one of them, especially the ones where the detective figures out the case, then has to go “off-book” to handle the bad guys. For Sam’s part, he had learned to enjoy them too, though his way had been irritatingly nerdy. Sam had identified every guest star like a living IMDB. Luc indulged him in his encyclopedic geekiness. It kept him happy, and let Luc watch his shows in peace. 

So when he had returned home to find that Sam had vanished, he had slammed glass against the wall to vent some steam, then had gotten right down to the detective work. 

Sam had nowhere to go. His useless brother and their crazy dad lived states away. He didn’t remember where, but he knew Sam used the excuse that it took Dean days to drive to visit, when he wanted Luc’s blessing to spend a whole day with the guy. Sam didn’t have any other family. Luc was his family. And the big nerd didn’t have any friends. 

But he did have a job. 

Luc’s eyes narrowed in anger. He knew that stupid job at the library was a mistake. He meant it that Sam would have to quit there. When they were together again, after this ridiculous tantrum Sam was throwing, Luc would explain to him that the part time job was a distraction. Poor Sam wasn’t very bright. He thought he was, but really, he just read a lot. Luc would explain it gently. The time and effort spent on that library job would be better spent on them. The tiny paycheck deposited into Luc’s account every two weeks was hardly worth it. Sam would have to quit, and that was that. 

In the meantime, that library was the one place Sam would go to sulk. Luc would find him there and bring him home, and when Sam had apologized, Luc could finally get things back to where they belonged. 

He stalked to the library, clenching and unclenching his fists. The most annoying part of all this was that Luc had left the apartment to get Sam flowers and breakfast, to ease their conversation. That had been what had crashed against the wall when he had found the apartment empty. Sam would need to clean up that mess right away. Some of it might stain if left there too long. Luc didn’t mind beginning the conversation with Sam on his knees anyway. 

Sam was beautiful on his knees. 

Just like all of Sam’s other passwords and PINs, Luc knew the code to the library door. He let himself in, and went straight to the office. There wasn’t much time to grab Sam and drag him home before the staff showed up. Much as he might enjoy making Sam quit the job right there on the spot, and let the humiliation be part of his punishment, Luc preferred to keep most of the lessons he taught Sam private. 

Sam wasn’t there, but Luc knew immediately that he had been. 

He sighed, and used the bottom of his tee shirt to wipe the blood smear from the office phone. “Aw, Sammy,” he murmured aloud with a strange fondness for his lover’s naïveté. “If you’re gonna be bad, you at least gotta be good at it.” 

Luc lifted the phone, and pushed the redial button. The ID display gave him a name and local number, which he scribbled on his wrist with a pen. How many people could there possibly be in town with a name like C. Seraphim? It wouldn’t take long at all to track down where Sam had gone, and whoever C. was…Well, he was about to find out exactly why nobody took Luc’s things.


End file.
